


Mirrored Mist

by Starchains



Series: Beginnings and Becomings [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Accidental Cross-Dressing, Cake, Codependency, Dreamsharing, Explosions, Friendship, Gen, Illusions, Male Chrome, Mistaken Gender, Shopping, Vendicare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starchains/pseuds/Starchains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry meets a strange boy in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry curled up in his cupboard. He was so hungry that his stomach felt like it was eating itself, and his head was pounding and throbbing from where Aunt Petunia had hit him with the frying pan. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the day before, and he had done so many chores that his whole body ached. Too tired even to cry from the pain, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him somewhere better.

This dream was different from normal. He was in a wide open meadow, with a forest in the distance. It was calm and peaceful, and it felt more real than other dreams he'd had. He bent down and ran his fingers through the grass that was tickling his bare feet. When he looked up, there was another boy looking at him. He looked strange, with purple-blue hair and bright blue eyes. Harry smiled shyly at him.

"Hello," he said. He would normally not dare to speak to another child but this was his dream, he was safe here.

The other boy didn't say anything, but he smiled back and bowed slightly. He didn't move, when Harry walked over and sat next to him he just smiled a strange smile that made his eyes crinkle shut.

As Harry made crowns out of the flowers that had appeared near him, he felt a tug on his hair. Turning round, he saw that the other boy had a brush in his hand and a determined expression on his face. Giggling, Harry turned back to his flowers and let the other boy try to tame his birds-nest. It wouldn't work; not even Aunt Petunia could put his hair into any kind of order.

When he had finished, he turned around again. The boy looked slightly shocked as Harry reached up to place a crown of bright red flowers on his head. He held up a mirror that appeared from nowhere to see how it looked, before giving Harry another crinkle-eyed smile. He turned the mirror around so that Harry could see his own reflection. Harry laughed. The boy had almost managed to tame his hair. Most of it lay flat, there was only a tuft on the back of his head that refused to behave. It looked like the other boy's hair now.

When he looked up, the other boy was gone. When he blinked, he found himself back in the cupboard, still aching with hunger and pain.

Harry began to look forward to meeting the boy in his dreams. He never spoke, but he was willing to listen to Harry chatter at him, or sit quietly with him and watch the sky, perpetually full of fluffy white clouds. He corrected Harry's maths and science homework when he brought it into the dream, and held him when he needed someone to cry on, when Dudley's bullying and his Uncle's shouting and his Aunt's disgust all became too much. Soon he was a brother and a mentor all rolled into one. There was a distance between them, caused by the boy's silence and Harry's near-worship of him, but that didn't matter to him. Soon, the boy and the dreams became the centre of Harry's whole world.

When Harry was six, the edges of the meadow began blur. They were filled with monsters and shadows and demons, reaching out to try and grab the other boy. Harry would cling to his friend, refusing to let the monsters touch him. The other would smile that strange smile, and laugh at his attempts to protect him.

Harry had been overjoyed when he first heard that laugh. It had been the first sound that his precious friend had made. The boy seemed amused by Harry's joy, and obliged him by laughing often, and at anything. Harry never tired of the sound, even if it was more of a throaty kufufu than an actual laugh. He carried a warm glow with him for weeks when he managed to make the boy actually open his mouth and laugh properly.

There were shadows in his friend's eyes now. When the shadows reached for him, he flinched. His smile became more brittle and false, until it looked like the one Aunt Petunia gave to neighbours she didn't want to have over to tea. When Harry told his friend that, he kufufued at him, and gave him a proper crinkle-eye smile, before pulling him down to brush his hair again.

When Harry was seven, his friend vanished for a week. Harry was frantic, searching his meadow in his dreams, refusing to wake up for anything, even food. When his friend came back, he looked awful. He was wearing the same white pyjamas that he had always worn, but they were stained with blood where they had always been pristine before. His right eye was red, instead of the beautiful deep blue of his left. He was grinning though, not just smiling, and he looked triumphant. Harry ran to him and threw his arms around him, pulling both of them down onto the soft grass.

"They're all dead," the boy said.

It wasn't what Harry had expected his friend's first words to be. He pulled back slightly to look at the boy's face.

"Who?" If his friend had killed them, they deserved to die. Mostly, Harry just wanted to know who had hurt his friend badly enough that he felt killing them was the only way.

"My family. They experimented on me," the boy told him, his voice full of anger and other emotions Harry didn't want to try and untangle.

"I'm glad you're back. I thought you had gone away forever." Harry buried his face in his friend's shirt, ignoring the bloodstains. He didn't want his friend to see him cry.

The boy pulled on Harry's shoulder until he sat up slightly, and then tilted his chin up so their eyes met. The red eye was strange and disturbing, but oddly beautiful.

"You are mine, Harry. I won't leave you," the boy told him softly. Harry stared at him, taking in the sincerity in his eyes. Then he grinned widely.

"The shadows are gone!" He had expected them to return with his friend, but the meadow was as pure as the first day he had seen it.

"I've beaten them, Harry. They won't return again."

With that, they lay down on the meadow, with Harry sprawled over his friend's chest. Both of them were quite happy to stay like that, quiet and still.

"Rokudo Mukuro," the boy said softly, breaking the peaceful silence. "My name is Rokudo Mukuro."

Mukuro wasn't exactly talkative after that, but he would talk to Harry. He told him about Chikusa and Ken, who had been a part of his family, and who he had saved. He told him about being found by a new family, one which seemed kinder than his old one, and hadn't tried to hurt them yet.

"They're teaching me languages. I already know Italian and English, of course, but they're teaching me Japanese, French, Spanish and Russian," Mukuro told him, as Harry constructed a castle out of water.

"That's a lot of languages." Harry was impressed. He could only speak English. "Will you teach me?"

Mukuro kufufued. "I'll teach you one, my dear Harry. Perhaps Japanese?"

Harry nodded, and found himself taking language lessons along with the maths and science that Mukuro gave him when he felt like being productive. Japanese was complicated and awkward, but it was a special secret language, just for them.

They carried on quite happily for a year, with Harry becoming more fluent in Japanese. Much to his friend's amusement, he insisted on addressing him as 'Mukuro-sama'. He tried to disguise it as teasing, but they both knew the respect was truly, deeply meant. For once, Mukuro didn't push, but simply accepted the title and the flimsy excuse with one of his rare, genuine smiles. In between language lessons, both of them learned how to manipulate the meadow, creating pillars of fire or castles made of clouds. Mukuro also had a new set of powers that came with his eye, and he practiced with them almost constantly. He had been impressed when Harry had been able to speak with the snakes he had conjured up, since not even his beast path allowed him to do that.

This life, of blissful nights spent in the meadow with Mukuro, and days full of chores and school and family to endure, was interrupted when Mukuro turned up in the meadow in blood-stained clothes once again. This time, he was crying.

"Mukuro-sama!" Harry rushed towards his friend. Instead of allowing the hug, as he always had before, Rokudo pushed him away.

"I don't deserve your comfort, Harry." Mukuro said, as he sat down heavily on the grass and pulled his knees up to his chest. "I don't think that even you can forgive me for this."

Harry sat down behind Mukuro and wrapped his arms around him. "There is nothing that you could ever do that I couldn't forgive. Nothing. Not ever."

In a sudden movement, Mukuro pulled himself from Harry's arms and stood, looking down at Harry with an ugly sneer on his face. "I killed them, Harry. The entire family. I stole Lancia's body and I made him murder the people that were most precious to him."

Harry stayed on the ground with his eyes closed for a moment, before he met Mukuro's eyes solidly. "You had a reason. You always have a reason. And besides, I don't know them, Mukuro-sama. I know you, and you are precious to me."

Mukuro collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut. He grabbed Harry and clung to him as though he was a teddy bear, looking like the heartbroken eleven-year-old that he was. Harry let Mukuro cling, holding him until the tears dried up and some of that awful tension loosened.

Mukuro never spoke about what happened there again. He stopped talking about his real life at all for the most part, only sharing amusing anecdotes about how Ken had spent a full hour chasing a squirrel or Chikusa had managed to knock himself out with a yoyo. For his part, Harry tried to be as happy as possible, to provide Mukuro with an escape from his awful waking life.

They continued like this until the letter arrived, addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. It was child's play to hide it so that he could read it later, since Harry was finally able to use his illusions in the real world as well as the meadow. When he had told Mukuro, he had earned a genuine smile. Harry treasured each and every one of them.

Mukuro didn't want Harry to go to this magic school. A secret society that used special powers sounded far too much like the Mafia. Harry was touched that Mukuro was willing to sacrifice all of the extra knowledge that he could gain in order to keep Harry safe, but they both knew that if Hogwarts was anything like the Mafia, they wouldn't take no for an answer. Harry resolved to simply be as naive and average as he could possibly be. Luckily, his introduction to the Wizarding world started with Hagrid, allowing him to perfect his persona with someone who wouldn't notice if his behaviour was slightly off.

Mukuro's commentary was the only thing that made the year bearable. Once he was sorted into Hufflepuff, everyone ignored him. The other Houses wrote him off, and his housemates thought that he was an attention-seeker and shunned him. Mukuro was his only company. He drove Harry to the library, to learn all that he could about this new world. When he asked about illusions, playing the part of the wide-eyed muggleborn, he was told that they would fall under very high-level charms, far beyond Hogwarts' standards. Mukuro preened at the confirmation of his superiority, but it did little to limit his disdain of magic. People used it as a crutch, he ranted to Harry. They had no imagination when it came to the ways that magic could be used, and they refused to do anything physically. Even Mukuro, who prided himself on his illusions and his ability to manipulate, knew how to use his trident to fight.

Not that being able to fight helped him against the Vindice. One night in the middle of March, he appeared blood-stained in the meadow once again. Harry had realised that the blood was a reflection of Mukuro's state of mind, rather than physical wounds, but it still distressed him. Mukuro always cleaned it off as soon as he realised it was there. Even in front of Harry he hated to appear weak.

"What happened, Mukuro-sama?" Harry asked, as Mukuro brushed his hair. Harry knew that it pleased Mukuro to try and tame his hair, and as long as Harry phrased it as though he was asking for his own sake, instead of Mukuro's, he would spend all evening on it.

"We were captured. I knew that we could not run forever, but I had hoped." Mukuro kufufued at the panic on Harry's face. "Don't fret, my dear Harry. We are only in the moderate security section, and they believe Lancia to be the mastermind behind our crimes. Chikusa, Ken and I are merely his poor misled subordinates. Even the Vindice will not mistreat children when there is no proof of them having committed any serious crime, especially when there is someone else to blame."

"Visit whenever you like," Harry told him quietly. "Prison must get pretty boring."

Mukuro gave him an eyes-shut smile and pulled his head around so he could get a particularly stubborn tangle. Of course, this world being an illusion, the tangles were only there because one of them wanted them to be, but they both quietly ignored the fact that hair could be styled with a thought instead of a brush.

The year finished quietly, with Mukuro spending more time in the back of Harry's head, commenting on the lessons and their general uselessness. Harry left that year with no more friends and little more knowledge than he had started with. They both decided that they did not want to return.

Of course, that decision was apparently unacceptable. Two days after he had sent the letter withdrawing himself from Hogwarts, Professor Sprout was knocking on the door. Aunt Petunia, who had been so pleased with Harry's rejection of the freakish school that she had moved him to the second bedroom, was not pleased. Not even the information that Harry would be spending the holiday with a Wizarding family to help him feel more at home with the culture placated her. Harry was bundled out the door and Apparated – an awful sensation he hoped never to repeat – to his summer home before even Mukuro could come up with a plan of action.

The Weasley family was large and loud. Harry barely managed to make it through the introductions before making his excuses and retreating to the room that he was apparently sharing with the Weasley's youngest son Ron. Harry had met Ron on the train on the way to Hogwarts, but since Gryffindor and Hufflepuff didn't share any classes, they hadn't kept in contact. Ron's room was an eye bleeding shade of orange. Only Harry's experience in falling asleep in any circumstance allowed him to close his eyes and find his way to the meadow.

Mukuro was furious. The sky in the meadow was full of storm clouds, and lightning struck in the distance. Harry watched him from a distance as he vented his anger through his illusions. He knew better than to approach when Mukuro-sama was in this kind of a mood.

The Wizarding world now looked entirely too much like the Mafia. They trapped people and didn't let them go. Now Harry, Mukuro's one source of freedom, was a prisoner, no matter how the Weasley's tried to dress up the situation. His angry ranting and biting scorn were Harry's main source of entertainment, and a welcome distraction from the people around him.

Mrs Weasley was overwhelming. She seemed to want Harry to see her as a mother-figure. Harry, who had long since outgrown his childish fantasy of an adult who would shelter him and protect him, found her smothering. He had Mukuro-sama, why would he need anyone else?

The twins were bullies. They might call it pranking, but for Harry, who was used to having to guard his food fiercely from Dudley, was driven nearly to tears by their insistence on pranking his food so that it tasted of mud, or turned his hair green, or made his tongue swell. It took him bursting into tears and a hunger strike – both suggested by Mukuro, the master of emotional manipulation – before Mrs Weasley would corral the menaces.

Ginny was shy enough that she was easy to avoid, and Mukuro found her crush amusing. But Ron, who he had thought he might be able to befriend, was impossible. He was upset that Harry didn't have to buy second-hand books, that he wouldn't tell him what he remembered about the night his parents died, that he wanted to leave Hogwarts, that he wouldn't play chess, that he wouldn't play Quidditch, that he refused to do chores. Harry was willing to write this off as a clash of incompatible personalities, but Mrs Weasley insisted on throwing them together.

Mukuro came up with the plan the make Ron leave him alone. Spend time with Percy. Percy was glad to have a studious companion, and Ron wouldn't any more time with his older brother than absolutely necessary. By dropping hints, Harry even managed to get Percy to suggest Harry switching rooms, so that Ron could have his back.

In that way, the summer passed. Harry spent more time in the meadow than ever before. Mukuro started teaching him German, and Harry learned how to create illusory fire that really burned. Other than spending time in the illusory world, there wasn't much to do. Harry wasn't even allowed to go with them to collect his school things, which was a shame. Apparently he missed Mr Weasley getting into a fistfight with Mr Malfoy.

He was much more closely watched in his second year. His housemates, obviously ordered by their Head of House, tried to befriend him. Harry ignored them. Compared to Mukuro-sama, they were petty and useless. He didn't need such disposable bonds, although Mukuro advocated picking them up and using them as tools. Harry thought that the risk of having things tying him to Hogwarts was greater than the potential gain.

He spent a lot of time in the meadow with Mukuro-sama. He practiced magic, and tried to find ways of performing the same tricks with illusions. Mukuro told him about people he had met in prison. Birds, a creepy old man who had even creepier twins as minions and M.M., a girl who loved money even more than a goblin did. One day in mid-April, he arrived at the meadow with a jubilant expression on his face.

"We're free, my dear Harry." It took a second for the words to sink in.

"That's amazing! How did it happen? Did Chikusa and Ken make it out alright? Won't the Vindice be after you?"

Mukuro kufufued at Harry's rapid-fire questions. Once Harry had run out of things to say, he regaled him with the tale of their escape, evading the guards, and cross-country travel.

"We're in Japan now. I regret that I cannot come to you, but I don't wish to draw the Mafia's attention to you. Besides, I have business here to take care of."

Harry heard about how the heir to the Vongola was somewhere nearby, and how Mukuro-sama planned to use whoever it was to bring down the Mafia, and from there move on to the rest of the world. Harry always enjoyed listening to Mukuro-sama's plans. They were grand and wide-reaching, but full of tiny details that would never occur to anyone else. To Harry, a world run by Mukuro-sama sounded like paradise.

Mukuro spent less time in Harry's head now that he was free. Harry distracted himself from the loneliness by trying solve the mystery of the petrifications and the hunt for Slytherin's heir. He quickly decided that the culprit was a basilisk, judging by the way roosters had been killed and the voice that Harry had heard from the walls, where Mukuro had only heard hissing. That puzzle was enough to entertain him for a few weeks, and watching the panic of the other students was amusing enough that the year passed quickly.

It was in May when Ron, who Harry had been studiously avoiding throughout the year, came and grabbed Harry.

"I need your help," he gasped without preamble.

"Why?" Harry just smiled. He couldn't manage the 'I'm laughing at you' smile that Mukuro-sama could, his always looked shy and friendly.

"Ginny's been taken. You're the Boy Who Lived, you can help, right?" Ron sounded desperate. Despite himself, Harry wanted to help. Ginny had been one of two Weasley's that it hadn't been a complete chore to be around.

"Maybe you should go to a teacher," Harry may have wanted to help, but wasn't sympathetic enough to risk his life against a basilisk.

"But…" Ron looked shocked, as though the idea that Harry might refuse had never occurred to him.

"Of course I'll come and help," Mukuro said, using his mouth. Harry's mind stopped for a moment. He hadn't known Mukuro-sama could that.

"This way! Hermione figured out that the entrance must be in the girl's bathroom, and it's a basilisk. There's a snake carved on a tap, so the secret passage must be around there," Ron told him as he dragged Harry through the corridors. Harry pulled him to a stop outside the bathroom door.

"I'll go in alone. You wait here, and if I'm not back before curfew, fetch a teacher." Not giving Ron time to reply, he went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

It took hardly any time to find the snake, and even less to open it using parseltongue. As he climbed up from the floor at the bottom of the slide and made his way forward across the carpet of bones, he asked Mukuro why he was so eager to come.

"A basilisk cannot kidnap people, my dear Harry. There is a person controlling the snake. Wresting control of the basilisk away from that person will be a true test of my Path of Beasts." Mukuro told him, from his ever-present place in back of Harry's head.

"So it's not that you want to save Ginny?" Harry teased. Mukuro was silent. He didn't like it when Harry pointed out his possessive loyalty. Harry had had no idea that Mukuro considered Ginny his, though. He must have found her more amusing than he'd thought.

Harry commanded the giant stone door to open in the same way that he had the passage. Inside was Ginny, pale and unmoving on the floor. Over her, a tall brunet boy was standing and holding a diary.

"Harry Potter," the boy said. "I didn't expect to see you here. Poor Ginny certainly wasn't expecting a rescue."

"You have me at a disadvantage," Harry said calmly. He didn't recognise the boy, but that wasn't a surprise. He couldn't name all of his year mates, let alone the rest of the students.

"My name is Tom Riddle. Although perhaps you know me best by a different name."

The letters of fire he traced in the air spelled out his name and then shifted.

"Lord Voldemort? Why is the most feared wizard of our time wasting his time on schoolgirls?" Harry was genuinely curious, and so was Mukuro. This was fascinating.

Riddle didn't seem to know whether to be flattered or offended. "With this girl's life force drained away by my diary, I will have physical form once more, Harry Potter. A mediocre second-year will stand no chance against me, and there is no mother here to fling herself in front of you. Will you join me now?"

Mukuro was outraged. He was no minion, he was no one's follower. This time, Harry wasn't surprised when he took over his body.

"I don't think so, Tom. The girl is mine, you see. I don't like it when people break my toys."

Tom smiled. It was almost as creepy as Mukuro-sama's. "I have no choice then."

The basilisk was on them before they could even blink. There was no time to run, no time to plan. Just a heartbeat of panic, and then burning agony as a fang sunk deep into his stomach. The last thing that Harry heard was Mukuro-sama's voice.

"Rest, my dear Harry. I will take care of this."

Harry woke up in the Forbidden Forest, sprawled on the ground in his blood-stained robe. There was a startling lack of physical pain as he pushed himself to his feet. The most awful part of the situation wasn't physical, but mental. There was no voice in the back of his head. There wasn't even the faintest sense of Mukuro-sama's presence. He was alone.

Moving on autopilot, he changed his clothes to look clean. Then he made his way to the gates. It took him half an hour to reach the train station, where there was no Hogwarts Express waiting. From there, he followed the signs to Hogsmeade. Changing his physical appearance was difficult, but he managed to make himself look old enough that Madam Rosmerta didn't question him as he asked to use the floo. Copying what he had seen the Weasleys do that summer, he flung his floo powder into the fire, and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. There he booked a room, curled up on the bed, and cried himself to sleep.

Mukuro was waiting for him in the meadow, blood-stained once again. Harry tackled him in a hug, clinging on as if his life depended on it. Rather than simply tolerate it, Mukuro hugged him back almost as fiercely.

"I am so sorry, Harry. So, so, sorry."

Mukuro never apologised for anything. Harry pulled back and stared at him in shock. Mukuro seemed to take his silence as a demand for an explanation.

"I was arrogant. I should never have taken you down there. If I hadn't…" Mukuro broke off. He was crying. He had only seen Mukuro-sama cry once before, and he had never wanted to see it again.

"What happened?" Harry made sure that his voice was light and calm. He didn't want to sound accusing, the last thing he wanted was for Mukuro to think he was blaming him. This was terrifying, far worse than any giant snake.

"I managed to keep control of your body. I commanded the basilisk to destroy the diary, which was what had tethered Riddle here. The girl was breathing when I left, and I commanded the snake back into hibernation. Then I followed another path, one that led to the forest. Controlling you was exhausting, and I collapsed before I could get far."

Reporting the facts seemed to calm Mukuro, so that he was no longer shaking in Harry's arms. It made Harry feel bold enough to ask a question.

"Where's the problem then? This is good; the wizard's will think I'm dead, Ginny is safe, and I never have to go back."

"You should be dead." The bluntness of the statement shocked Harry into silence once again.

"The venom dissolved a great deal of your internal organs. I found a vial of phoenix tears to cleanse the wound, obviously set aside by whoever last used the chamber in case of emergencies, but it could only stop more damage, not reverse what had already been done."

"How am I alive, then?" Harry wasn't as frightened as he thought he should be. Mukuro-sama would have a solution.

"I'm maintaining illusions of your organs. Your body believes that they are there, so it keeps functioning."

Harry smiled up at him. "So there isn't a problem. I'm alive, you're alive, and I'm not trapped by that world anymore."

Mukuro kufufued. The sound was like music to Harry. "You are a miracle, my dear Harry. Very well. I have almost finished my business here in Japan. Will you wait in England until it's over?"

"Of course." As if Mukuro-sama needed to ask.

"There are potions that can change your appearance. They will be easier and less exhausting than maintaining an illusion. I do not want to risk being distracted from necessities by cosmetics. You will need to withdraw as much money as you can, and you need a new name." Mukuro was in planning mode. Harry loved watching him when he was plotting.

"What should my new name be?" Harry was surprised when Mukuro blushed.

"What?" Whatever name he had come up with couldn't be that bad, surely.

Instead of speaking, Mukuro traced letters of fire in the air. Evidently the young Tom Riddle had inspired him. Was that what he was embarrassed about? It couldn't be - Mukuro-sama was the last person in the world who would be embarrassed about using someone else's techniques. Rather than spelling out Voldemort's name, he wrote 'MUKURO ROKUDO'. With a flick of his finger, the letters rearranged themselves.

KUROMU DOKURO.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome makes preparations.

The newly named Kuromu, who decided to pronounce his new name as Chrome to make it easier to remember, and make the anagram less obvious for anyone who might make the connection, woke refreshed the next morning with a list of tasks to be completed. First stop, Gringotts.

Collecting money from his vault didn't take much time at all, although Chrome was thanking his foresight in taking the key from Hagrid in his first year, and keeping it on him at all times. Mukuro-sama's paranoia paid off. With a thousand galleons – the maximum the goblins would allow him to withdraw – in a bottomless bag, Chrome left the bank. The spell work for creating a bottomless container was incredibly complex, but it had intrigued both Chrome and Mukuro. He was glad that he had learnt it now.

Next stop was Candice's Curious Concoctions. They sold all kinds of potions, from vital medical treatments to frivolous cosmetics and household cleaners. The shopkeeper didn't even bat an eye at a teenage boy looking to change his style. She barely paid attention to him, too occupied with the couple on the other side of the store looking for something involving water resistance. Chrome didn't know exactly – he'd stopped paying attention once he was sure they weren't a threat. Ten minutes and three potions later, Chrome had straight blue hair, the same shade as Mukuro-sama's, and blue eyes. According to the salesperson the potions permanently altered the pigments, so there was no need to take them again. He looked like Mukuro-sama's younger brother now, and the thought lit a warm light inside him.

Mukuro-sama laughed quietly in his head. Chrome knew that Mukuro-sama should be focussing on what he was doing in Japan, but he wasn't about to ask him to leave. His presence was a comfort that he needed desperately, and they both knew it. The memory of the awful echoing silence was something that would haunt him for a long time to come.

He wasn't going to deny that it was the need to keep Mukuro-sama close that dictated his new look. He knew that it would be sensible to choose an appearance that wouldn't be associated with Mukuro-sama if anyone from the Mafia saw him, but that took second place at the moment. He needed a close tie to his Mukuro-sama. He laughed a little to himself. His Mukuro-sama. There really wasn't a word that encapsulated their relationship. Mukuro-sama was more than his brother, his mentor, his protector. Mukuro-sama had become his whole world before he had even realised.

"Don't worry, my dear Chrome," Mukuro whispered in his head. "There are no photographs of me. No one knows what I look like, so your appearance will arouse no suspicions."

Accepting Mukuro's reassurances, Chrome decided that he had spent enough time in Diagon Alley. The less time he spent in the Magical World, the less chance there was that he would be tracked down. The school was probably under the impression that he had died in the Chamber, but there was no need to be careless. He had lies prepared about being a home-schooled student out shopping for his parents. Mukuro-sama had taught him that a prepared lie was much better than one made up on the spot. Chrome had dozens of excuses rehearsed for different situations, at Mukuro-sama's insistence.

There was a small shop just inside Knockturn Alley, run by a Muggleborn witch that exchanged Galleons for Muggle currency. Chrome changed all of the Galleons he had left – nine hundred and ninety-four - for Muggle money. Mostly pounds, but he got some Euros and the woman's entire stock of Yen as well. The witch gave him a huge discount on the Yen, simply because no one wanted them. Mukuro-sama was amused that she obviously had no idea of the value of what she had handed over – Chrome had traded twenty Galleons for enough Yen to buy a house. Once that was done, Chrome travelled through the Leaky Cauldron for the last time, waving to Tom as he passed through. He was far more likely to remember a sullen teenage boy who looked like he had something to hide than a friendly one.

He used some of his new Muggle currency to take a taxi to the nearest hotel, not feeling up to walking any great distance. Soon he was booking a room in a cheap hotel and collapsing on the bed. It was only lunch time, but he was exhausted. Belatedly, he realised that his body was still recovering. It had undergone a massive trauma just the other day, and there wasn't a responsible hospital in the world that wouldn't have flatly refused to release him. Madam Pomfrey would probably have chained him to the bed to stop him from leaving the Hospital Wing in this state. Mukuro-sama's illusions could only do so much, amazing as they were. Closing his eyes, he sought out the meadow.

Mukuro-sama was waiting for him there. It felt good to have him there, after so many weeks of being second place to whatever he was doing in Japan. Immediately the thought made him feel guilty.

"There is no need to feel guilty, my dear Chrome," Mukuro told him gently, pulling Chrome down to sit beside him on the grass.

"My plan is nearly complete. Once I have defeated the Vongola heir, you can join me in Japan."

Chrome's heart leapt at the thought of finally seeing Mukuro-sama in the flesh. It must have shown on his face, because Mukuro laughed softly.

"For now, I need you to remain hidden. Practice your illusions as much as you can without arousing suspicion, and try to stay out of Diagon Alley."

"Yes, Mukuro-sama." Chrome paused for a second. "Do you mind? That I look like you?" He knew that Mukuro had reassured him in the shop, but it still felt horrifically bold of him, to mimic his mentor so blatantly.

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, Chrome," Mukuro said gently. "And besides, there may come a time when a body-double will be a useful thing."

Chrome grinned. He loved the thought that he could be useful to Mukuro-sama for once, instead of always needing to be the one saved by him.

"Don't think that," Mukuro whispered. Chrome was shocked to see the dark look on his face. "If it wasn't for me, you would be whole."

"No, I wouldn't!" Chrome snapped. It was awful seeing Mukuro-sama so unsure and guilty. It made him feel twisted up inside. "I would have gone crazy in that cupboard. I would have clung to the Wizards for saving me, they would have made me into their symbol. This is better."

Mukuro sighed and pulled him round so that he could brush his hair. Chrome leant into the touch, enjoying the attention. They stayed like that for a while, not speaking or moving, until Mukuro decided to break the silence.

"You know," he said casually, "If you're scared of being mistaken for me, you could always cross-dress."

Chrome choked, whirling round to look at Mukuro-sama's grinning face. It was good to see him smile again, but cross-dress? Mukuro-sama wanted him to wear a skirt? Was that common in Japan?

Mukuro-sama kufufu-ed at the look of horror on his face. "I'm teasing, dear Chrome. There, your hair is done. Soon, my business in Japan will be done. I will be out of touch for a while, to give these last stages my complete attention. Will you be alright?"

Chrome took a deep breath and smiled at Mukuro-sama, hating the way he knew his lips quivered. "I'll be fine. You complete this mysterious plan, and then I'll be able to meet you in person, right?"

He smiled gently. "Of course, my dear Chrome. Soon I will be able to call you to me side. You have enough money for a while, yes? It would be very helpful if you could familiarise yourself with our 'Muggle' world and technology."

Chrome nodded, glad to have a task to complete that would help Mukuro-sama. Mukuro pulled him into a gentle hug as the meadow faded around them. Chrome could almost feel Mukuro-sama's hand in his hair as he woke up to the empty hotel room.

Chrome spent the next two weeks in Muggle London. He considered going back to Diagon Alley to withdraw and convert another thousand Galleons, but he knew that he would be recognised, especially by the Muggleborn who exchanged the currency, and he didn't want to attract that much attention. The money he had was perfectly sufficient.

He made a list of all the skills that he needed so that he could be useful to Mukuro-sama. He made sure that he could get around using public transport, both buses and trains, and read the maps and time tables. He bought clothes that would work for almost situation – mostly trainers, jeans and shirts, but he made sure that he had one nice pair of trousers and shoes as well. The last major thing on his list, and the one that he was dreading, was the Internet.

The Dursleys had never let him use the computer. They said it was because they were afraid that he might damage it, but looking back he thought they were just afraid of what he might find. So he needed access to a computer, and someone to teach him. With a sigh, he put his name for free classes run by the local library. Luckily, he only needed his name, not an address or a phone number, to register. It gave him a little thrill to write down 'Chrome Dokuro' instead of 'Harry Potter'. The librarian raised an eyebrow at the name, but seemed appeased by a blush (that he had to use an illusion for, because blushing on command was not one of his skills) and a mumbled explanation that "Dad was into bikes, and Mum refused to let him call me Harley".

By the time the week-long course was up, Chrome had set up an email address, and knew how to send and receive emails. He could shop online, book tickets, use Google, and had a working knowledge of Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr – all of which terrified him slightly. Why would people want that much detail about someone else's life? Why would someone want to share that much about themselves? Mukuro-sama was the only person who needed to know anything about him. Mukuro hadn't been spending much time with him, but the warm glow of approval he got when he mastered a new skill made the work more than worthwhile. He was making himself useful, Mukuro-sama's plan was going well, and soon they would be together. Life was fantastic.

Two weeks after he had re-joined the Muggle world, he ventured into the meadow. Mukuro-sama had dropped out of contact, with only a quick 'I need to focus now, my dear Chrome' to stop him from panicking. Despite that, the well of fear inside him had threatened to drown him when the silence stretched from one hour, to two, to five. After eight hours, he gave in to temptation.

Mukuro-sama was waiting in the meadow, sat on the lush grass. Chrome stumbled over to his bloodstained form, falling to the grass beside him.

"I lost," Mukuro told him dully. "We're back in Vendicare. Ken is already climbing the walls here, dear Chrome, and Chikusa isn't speaking. They can't last here, Chrome. I failed them. I failed you."

"No!" Chrome told him vehemently. "You didn't fail, Mukuro-sama. You'll win. You always do."

"Such faith you have in me, Chrome. I must admit, I underestimated the Vongola Decimo. My arrogance was my undoing, and we are all paying the price."

Chrome couldn't think of anything to say to that, so instead he did something he had never dared to do before. He crawled round so that he was sat behind Mukuro-sama and pulled a hairbrush out of nowhere. Mukuro-sama started as he felt the brush move softly through his hair, before he chuckled softly and settled. They sat like that in silence for a while.

"They are expecting that we are too weak to attempt an escape right now, dear Chrome. I will break us out tonight. I need you to travel to Japan, Chrome, and we will meet you there. I will see you soon."

There was an odd note in Mukuro-sama's voice, one that he didn't like at all.

"What's wrong, Mukuro-sama?" he asked, continuing to brush Mukuro's perfectly groomed hair.

"So perceptive, my dear Chrome. You'll be good for Ken and Chikusa, goodness knows they need a minder."

"But surely you'll be…" Chrome choked as he realised what Mukuro-sama was saying. Why would they need a minder other than Mukuro-sama? Only if he wasn't planning to escape with them.

"Don't fret, Chrome. I will do my best to come to you, I promise." Mukuro turned around to wrap his arm around Chrome, and they sat like that in the meadow until Chrome woke up in his hotel room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome moves to Namimori. Chaos ensues.

Chrome followed the directions that Mukuro-sama had given him. Once he got off the aeroplane, he took a train to Namimori and then walked to the deserted Kokoyu Land. He had no idea what it had been before it got so run down. An amusement park? A movie theatre? Whatever it was, it was a sprawling, filthy mess of derelict buildings now. Chrome didn't know how long he would have to wait for Mukuro-sama and his friends to come, but hopefully there would be enough time for him to have the place looking presentable.

He chose the movie theatre area for his home base. It looked lived in, so it was probably where Mukuro-sama and his friends had been staying. It had running water, although there was no electricity. There were a couple of sofas, so he had somewhere to sleep. He dug out the last of the food he had packed, and ate while he put together a shopping list.

His Yen really came in handy now. Every day for the next week, he walked the half hour into Namimori, and came back laden with bags. He didn't make the trip more than once a day; Mukuro-sama had warned him about putting too much stress on his illusory organs. The first day, he bought food. Tins, packets, food that didn't need to be cooked and would keep without a fridge. The second day, he bought cleaning supplies, and spent all that afternoon making his living space habitable. By the end of the day, the room he was in was just about liveable, which he thought was fantastic progress. As he worked, he chided Mukuro-sama gently for his slovenly living space. Mukuro-sama had kufufu-ed and called him a cute little housewife, which made him blush furiously. On the third day, he went shopping for camping supplies. Lightweight, waterproof sleeping bags and ground mats, an inflatable bed and air pump, a fold-up camping bed and chair, and a camping stove. So he could see what was most comfortable to sleep on, and he had some options for Mukuro-sama and his friends. It also meant that he could cook food, albeit crudely.

It was on his third night at Kokuyo Land that Mukuro contacted him again. He closed his eyes that night, exhausted after a marathon of cleaning, and fell into the meadow. Mukuro-sama was waiting.

"Are Ken and Chikusa there with you?" he asked immediately.

"No, not yet. Are you…" Chrome was afraid to say it.

"They escaped, and I remained behind. They have moved me to maximum security." He kufufu-ed. "I believe they find it embarrassing that a fifteen year old boy continually manages to circumvent their security.

"Maximum security?" Chrome didn't know exactly what that entailed, but he was willing to bet it was awful.

"I am kept sedated now. It means I will be able to spend more time with you, my dear Chrome."

He smiled his old crinkle-eyed smile, and Chrome smiled back. Mukuro pulled out his ever-present hairbrush, and they spent the rest of their time together in silence, idly making pictures in the mist around them like children making stories from the clouds.

The next morning, Chrome went out and stocked up on food again. He had a set of collapsible pans that came with the camping stove, so he could cook food for the boys, instead of making them subsist on snack food, like he suspected they had been doing. He was limited by what he could store without a fridge or a freezer, but he bought himself a cool-box so that when they arrived, he could buy meat and have it last all day without going bad. He stocked up on fresh fruit for Chikusa and sweets for all of them. According to Mukuro-sama, whatever they had been through left them with much higher metabolisms than normal people, especially Ken. Sugar was the best way to get calories quickly. He bought dozens of the packets of instant ramen, rice, and pasta, and a whole variety of canned food. He had stuck with what he had known, but Mukuro-sama had regaled him with tales over the years of how adventurous Chikusa was with food, willing to try absolutely anything. Ken, surprising, was a lot pickier.

His cool-box had a carry strap, so it was surprisingly easy to transport all the food back to Kokoyu Land. He decided to buy extra blankets for the boys while he was in town. Half an hour later, he was regretting his extra purchase as he stumbled home. He was irritated with himself. He had done the laundry for the Dursleys, he knew how much sheets and blankets could weigh! He could feel Mukuro-sama's amusement in the back of his head, although it was tinged with concern. It made him feel good even as it made him feel guilty. He didn't like to make Mukuro-sama worry.

It was good that he'd stocked up on food. When Chrome got back from shopping the next morning – he had seen a green jacket on sale the other day that Mukuro-sama had said would look good on him, and he wanted to get it before it sold out – he found two teenagers sat in his base, tearing through the food. There was a pile of empty packets and cans next to them, and crumbs all over the floor.

For a moment he just watched them. He could recognise them easily. Mukuro-sama had shown him what they looked like one night in the meadow. Chikusa's eyes were blanker than he had thought they would be, and Ken looked friendlier. Like a puppy rather than a wolf. Then he shifted, and both of them whipped round to face him. Chrome shivered. There was the danger he had expected.

"I'm Chrome," he said softly. "Mukuro-sama told me you were coming."

"You're the vessel," Ken sneered. "I don't know why Mukuro-san needs you, but I guess you can stay here."

Chrome swallowed down the hurt. He didn't know why Mukuro-sama needed him either. But he was grateful that Mukuro-sama thought he was valuable nonetheless. Mukuro-sama brushed a reassuring touch over his mind.

"Ken," Chikusa said quietly. Chrome couldn't tell what he meant. Was it a warning? An agreement? His voice was so flat it was impossible to tell. Ken seemed to read something into it though, rolling his eyes and looking away.

"We don't need help. Especially not from some useless copy, byon!" He huffed and turned his back.

Chrome walked into the room and laid his new jacket into the suitcase where he kept his clothes.

"There are sleeping bags, and a camp bed and an air bed. I don't know which you would prefer," he told them.

Ken turned back around and grinned again at the mention of the air bed. He and Chikusa spent the next twenty minutes getting it inflated and choosing the best placement in the room for it. Once it was fully inflated, Ken flung himself down on it, pulling Chikusa down next to him.

"It's too small, byon," he grumbled.

"We can buy another one in town and push them together, Ken," Chikusa told him.

"I'll go now!" Ken leapt to his feet. "I need to stretch my legs. You stay here and keep the copy company." Ken was out the door before either of them could say anything.

Chrome busied himself with clearing up the debris left from his new housemate's meal. As he was sleeping the floor, Chikusa broke their slightly awkward silence.

"You look too similar to Mukuro-sama," he said flatly. Chrome continued sweeping, unsure of what to say. Mukuro-sama had told him that it wouldn't be a problem, and he didn't want to give up his new look for anything less than an emergency.

"Every time Ken sees you, he thinks that Mukuro-sama is standing there. It upsets him," Ken told him. Then he pulled a pair of yoyos from his pocket, silently declaring the topic closed. They sat in silence until Ken got back, and then they busied themselves with inflating the second bed. That night, as Chrome curled up in his sleeping bag, he looked over at the two curled up together and felt a sharp pang of loneliness for the first time in his life. Swallowing it down, he closed his eyes and travelled to the meadow, letting Mukuro-sama soothe his childish fears away.

Chrome went out in town the next day shopping for clothes. He wanted to get away from the awkward silence that descended on the group any time they were together for more than five minutes, and Chikusa had pointed out that if his clothes looked less like Mukuro-sama's, Ken might feel more comfortable. Ken had scoffed at the idea, but Chrome had seen the pain in his eyes when he saw Chrome in the green jacket he had just bought, so he decided to give it a try. It couldn't hurt, and he could pick up some things for Ken and Chikusa while he was out. Chikusa had already claimed the green jacket once Chrome bought himself a replacement for it, although Ken looked willing to fight for it once Chrome had mentioned that Mukuro-sama had picked it himself.

Since Mukuro-sama wore dark greens, purples and blues, Chrome decided to go light and bright. Powder blue, mint green, lilac. Reds and creams. He also grabbed some bright orange and yellow before his courage could fail him. Mukuro-sama commented on all his choices, suggesting that he pick up some jeans, shorts and cargo pants instead of the neat trousers that Mukuro himself preferred. Despite the fact that it was a more feminine style, Chrome was quite fond of the way shorts looked paired with long socks, and Mukuro-sama had encouraged him to try it.

He had just paid for his purchases – he had picked up some jeans and tee-shirts for Ken and Chikusa as well – and changed into a short-sleeved blue shirt and cropped cargo pants when he saw it. The leather jacket was a light tanned brown with gold zips, and it was gorgeous. Mukuro-sama hummed in appreciation.

"It's not really my style, Chrome, but it would look very cute on you," he purred. Chrome blushed.

Looking round the racks, he couldn't see where the jacket displayed on the mannequin was actually located in the store. Gathering up his courage, he approached a shop assistant. "Excuse me," he asked quietly. The woman turned around and glared at him. "The jacket on the mannequin, do you know where I could find one?"

The woman huffed. "It's right there." She pointed somewhere in the racks of clothes, and moved away before Chrome could ask for clarification.

He resigned himself to searching through the rails when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Would you like some help?" the auburn-haired girl who had stopped him asked. Chrome blushed and nodded.

"The staff here are so unhelpful!" the brunette who was with her commented as Chrome was led deeper into the racks of clothes. "If they didn't have such cute clothes, I wouldn't come here at all!"

Chrome nodded as the brunette girl continued talking about the clothes, shopping, cake and cosplay, humming his interest in appropriate places. Eventually – and how big was this store anyway? – they stopped by a rail of the jackets. The auburn haired girl pulled one off and handed it to him.

"This looks to be your size. Try it on!"

Chrome awkwardly handed her his bags and shrugged the jacket on. It fit a little awkwardly around the chest and under the arms, but it wasn't too bad. The brunette girl steered him to a mirror, where he stared at his reflection. He looked feminine. A horrible suspicion started in the back of his mind, helped along by Mukuro-sama's laughter.

"You look so cute!" the brunette gushed.

"Thank you for helping me," Chrome said, bowing awkwardly. He wasn't used to Japanese manners.

"You're welcome! Are you new to Namimori?" the auburn-haired girl asked.

"Yes. My name is Chrome."

"It's nice to meet you, Chrome-chan! I'm Haru," the brunette introduced herself.

"I'm Kyoko. Would you like to have some cake with us, Chrome-chan?" the auburn-haired girl asked. Chrome could tell that they were just taking pity on the obviously overwhelmed newcomer, but he really did need to eat. Mukuro-sama was disappointed in him when he forgot to take care of himself.

The girls waited for him to pay for the jacket, and then they steered him a cute little bakery. His eyes widened at all the sweets displayed there. Cake hadn't been a priority while he was in London, and the Dursleys would never have let him have anything so nice.

"What would you like, Chrome-chan?" Kyoko asked.

"I – I'm not sure," Chrome said quietly, overwhelmed by the choice.

"I think you would enjoy the fruit more than the chocolate," Mukuro-sama suggested gently.

"I'm having chocolate cake!" Haru declared brightly.

"I'll have a strawberry tart," Kyoko said. Chrome seized the idea.

"Strawberry tart sounds nice. I've never tried it before."

Once they had paid for their cake, they moved to a table outside, since Haru wanted to enjoy the sunshine. He stowed the bags holding his new clothes and jacket on an empty chair before he sat down himself. He was just about to try his treat when the world exploded.

Chrome grabbed Kyoko and Haru and dragged them under the table as the heat and noise washed over him in a burning wave. His heart was about to beat out of his chest and his breath was coming too fast. What was going on? The ground next to him exploded, and his arm burned in agony. He clutched it to his chest, hissing at the pain before it vanished abruptly. Mukuro-sama flooded his mind with waves of reassurance and comfort as he wove an illusion to keep the pain at bay. Chrome glanced at the girls, making sure they were unhurt before he dared to look at the burnt, blistering skin of his arm.

"Mukuro Rokudo! How dare you!" a male voice shouted.

Haru squirmed out of his grip and stood up. Chrome wracked his brains for an illusion that could be useful here. What good was misdirection when the enemy was already here?

"Gokudera! What are you doing? Why are you playing with fireworks here? You've terrified Chrome-chan," she scolded. Chrome's breath caught in his throat. She was directly confronting them?

"Gokudera-kun," said another male voice. It sounded like a plea.

The explosions had stopped, and Chrome realised that his grip on Kyoko was far too tight. He let go with a mumbled apology and she smiled gently at him. Together they crawled out from under the table, and Chrome got his first look at the newcomers. A silver-haired teen with a cigarette in his mouth was clutching a handful of dynamite. He was clearly the source of the explosions. Chrome flinched at the harsh scowl he directed at him. Why did he hate him so much?

"I did possess his body to attack his precious Jyuudaime," Mukuro-sama whispered.

Chrome felt a sudden rush of sympathy for the boy. If someone had used him to hurt Mukuro-sama, he didn't think he could forgive them either.

With the silver haired boy – Gokudera, Haru had called him – was a brown-haired boy who looked like a deer in headlights.

"I'm sorry about that," Brown-Hair laughed awkwardly. "You look kind of like someone who attacked us, and Gokudera-kun is kind of overprotective."

"It's OK," Chrome mumbled.

"Can you earn their trust here? Having an entrance to their group would be very useful," Mukuro-sama said. Chrome didn't point out how he felt protective, rather than plotting, but Mukuro caught the thought anyway and huffed indignantly.

"That you would have powerful allies to keep you safe is merely a secondary benefit," he insisted.

Chrome laughed in his head as an idea came to him.

"I know I look a lot like Nii-sama," Chrome told Brown-Hair.

Mukuro-sama felt as shocked as the boys looked. Chrome supressed the urge to laugh out loud.

"Hieee! Mukuro is your brother?" Brown-Hair shrieked.

"Yes. I stayed in England to keep safe, so the family couldn't hurt me. He told me that he was in Japan, and we could finally meet. But he's not here, and I just know that something awful has happened to him." Chrome made sure to look as pitiful as possible. Sometimes, the subtlest illusions were most useful.

Mukuro-sama was laughing hysterically.

"I'm sure that he's fine," Brown-Hair said awkwardly.

"Bastard's in prison where he belongs," Gokudera growled.

"Gokudera!" Haru yelled. "Don't be so cruel about Chrome-chan's family!"

"Gokudera-kun," Brown-Hair said. The barest hint of a reprimand in his voice was enough to make Gokudera cringe.

"I'm sorry, Jyuudaime!"

"Jyuudaime?" Chrome asked. Was Gokudera seriously saying that this fluffy boy was the tenth Boss that Mukuro-sama had been fighting?

"Yes, that's cute little Tsunayoshi," Mukuro-sama told him, the edge of laughter still in his voice.

"Ah, I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi," the newly-identified Tsunayoshi bowed.

"I'm Dokuro Chrome. It's nice to meet you, Tsunayoshi-kun," Chrome bowed back. "Please excuse me, I need to go to the pharmacy to get some dressings for these burns."

"Oh no!" Kyoko gasped as she caught sight of his arm. "Come to my house, Chrome-chan. Onii-san is always injuring himself, so we have a lot of first-aid supplies."

"Are you sure, Kyoko-chan?" Chrome asked.

"Of course! We'll see you late, Tsuna-kun!" she waved goodbye to Tsunayoshi and Gokudera as she led Chrome and Haru away.

Chrome returned to Ken and Chikusa later with a bandaged arm, bags of clothes, and a dish of food that Kyoko had insisted he take after she had learned that he didn't have any food prepared for the evening. She had been horrified at the thought of him doing chores with his bad arm.

Ken pounced on him as soon as he walked through the door.

"Where the Hell were you, byon!" he demanded, even as he sniffed eagerly at the food.

"I ran into Sawada and his bomber friend. My arm got burnt when he started throwing dynamite around, so I had to get it bandaged," he explained as he set the bags and dishes down neatly.

"Where'd you get the food from?" Ken asked, poking at the foil lid.

"Sasagawa Kyoko has apparently decided to take me under her wing, as the new girl in town," Chrome explained dryly. Ken stared at him for a moment before he burst into cackling laughter.

"She thinks you're a girl?" Even Chikusa was chuckling slightly.

Chrome threw the bag of clothes at them with a scowl. They took the hint and tried them on while Chrome dished out the food. The mood was more companionable than the night before, and he even dared to wish the pair a quiet goodnight before they turned in. Chikusa returned the pleasantry, and even Ken grunted something that could have been 'night'.

As soon as Chrome reached the meadow, he was ranting to an amused Mukuro.

"Do I really look that girly? Really? It's not like I was wearing a skirt or anything!"

"You are very cute, dear Chrome," Mukuro said. Chrome actually glared at him. Mukuro-sama looked almost comically taken aback, but kufufu-ed before Chrome could start babbling apologies.

"But what do I do now? I can't turn round and say, 'Oh, I'm actually a boy'! They already don't trust me, and the only reason they'll let me in at all is if Kyoko and Haru like me, and they won't feel comfortable with me if I'm a boy!" Chrome explained desperately.

"Calm down, Chrome," Mukuro soothed, waving a hand and growing patches of lavender around them, filling the air with the calming scent. "Simply do nothing to confirm your gender either way. Think of it as a game. If they realise, just tell them that you were too embarrassed to correct them. They will likely be too embarrassed at their own mistake to push very hard."

"I'm not wearing skirts," Chrome said firmly.

"Of course not. That would cross the line into deliberate deception. Remember, the best illusions are the ones that no one knows are illusions at all. You were very quick at gaining the trust of the girls, I'm impressed."

Chrome preened slightly under the praise. Making Mukuro-sama happy was worth any amount of awkwardness. Together, they practiced perception-altering illusions until Ken shook Chrome awake.

Over the next few weeks, Chrome spent a lot of time with Kyoko and Haru, and by extension with Tsunayoshi and his friends. Gokudera never warmed up to him, referring to him pretty much exclusively as 'that bastard's sister', despite Tsunayoshi's exasperated pleas. Yamamoto Takeshi, a baseball-obsessed boy who Ken had some kind of grudge against, was a lot more welcoming, and Kyoko's older brother had all but adopted him as a 'little sister'.

While he enjoyed spending time with the group, he preferred to do it outside of Tsunayoshi's house, which was the preferred gathering place. Sawada-san reminded him too much of Mrs Weasley, with her forceful hospitality. He wasn't going to call some stranger 'Mama' because he was passing acquaintances with her son. Staying out of the house also meant that he could avoid the children. Kyoko and Haru loved spending time with Lambo, I-Pin and Fuuta. Chrome found Fuuta's company tolerable, although he was glad that he seemed to have lost the ability to rank things since he was kidnapped by Mukuro-sama. There was too great a chance that his deception could have been revealed, otherwise. The other two, though, were a nightmare. Between them, Lambo and I-Pin could destroy any room they entered, and although I-Pin was generally sweet, if bossy, Lambo was a spoiled hellion.

Still, the weeks passed quickly. He enjoyed the game of keeping his gender ambiguous, saying nothing that would reveal that he was male while not actually claiming to be female. It was harder than he had thought it would. He spent a lot of time watching and mimicking Kyoko and Haru's mannerisms. Kyoko regaled him with tales of Tsunayoshi's antics, and Haru roped him into cosplaying with her. Before he knew it, he was a part of the group. It was the first time he had friends of his own – he didn't count Ken and Chikusa. Although he had grown closer to them, he was very aware that they were Mukuro-sama's friends, not his. He kept catching Haru glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking, and it made him nervous. The inevitable confrontation happened on 'Haru Appreciation Day'.

"Why are you pretending to be a girl, Chrome-chan?" Kyoko asked gently as they sat down for cake. Chrome froze. He had underestimated the girls, he hadn't expected them to notice.

"I'm not, not really," he whispered. "But you all just assumed I was, and by the time I realised what you thought, it was too late to tell you the truth. You were so kind and welcoming, and I didn't want to spoil that." He looked up at them with glistening eyes. "I was enjoying having friends, and I didn't want you to hate me for lying to you, even though I never meant to." He knew his face looked pitiful.

Haru grabbed his hands. "Of course we're your friends, Chrome-chan! There's no need to pretend with us."

"But Tsuna and his friends, they only see Nii-sama," Chrome pointed out sadly. "I don't know what he did to them, but they really hate him. The only reason Gokudera-san doesn't attack me every time he sees me is because he thinks I'm a girl. I want them to look at me and see me, not Nii-sama. They won't do that if they know I'm a boy."

Haru scowled at the thought of Gokudera. She knew what his temper was like, and Chrome could see her realising how true what Chrome was saying was.

"I'm sure if you explained that it was a misunderstanding, Tsuna-kun wouldn't be angry with you! And he wouldn't let his friends hurt you. I'm sure that they're all nice people; Onii-san wouldn't be friends with cruel people," Kyoko said earnestly. Chrome let a few tears fall.

"I know. I'm sorry, it's just that I couldn't bear it if they hated me. And they'd all treat me differently. If you really think it's the only way…" Chrome let his voice trail off.

"You should do whatever you think is best!" Haru declared. "Chrome-chan is our friend, and it doesn't matter whether you're a boy or a girl. We won't tell the boys your secret," she promised.

Kyoko nodded. "We won't break your trust, Chrome-chan."

Chrome smiled at them. "It's so nice, having friends like this. I've never felt so warm before."

Haru and Kyoko both blushed at his declaration. Together, they sat and ate cake until the bakery closed.

Chrome returned home laden with boxes of cake that he had picked out for Ken and Chikusa. Chikusa was a fan of cheesecake, and Ken would eat anything with chocolate in it. As soon as he stepped through the front door, his guard was up. Needles were embedded in the floor, and chunks of plaster were gouged out of the walls. Who had Ken and Chikusa been fighting? Mukuro-sama pushed himself forward in his mind, ready to take over if he needed to. With a deep breath, he dropped the boxes by the front door, and crept towards the main room.

Ken and Chikusa were slumped together in an unconscious heap on the ground. Chrome couldn't spare them more than a glance before he focussed his attention on the blond man sitting on his sofa, slouched as if room belonged to him. Chrome straightened his back, and met the blond man's serious brown eyes.

"What do you want, stranger-san?" He was recalling all the illusions that would help. Fire came as easily as breathing, and would make a good distraction. One to hide Ken and Chikusa's bodies – please, let them just be unconscious – and then lead the fight into the open. Use the surroundings. Run.

"I hear you're quite taken with my son, Dokuro-san."

"I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about," Chrome said. His son?

"My Tsuna-kun. You've been spending rather a lot of time with him. I know you're an illusionist like your brother. You must be quite talented to hide yourself all these years."

"Nii-sama took care that I was well taught," Chrome said tightly. Where was he going with this? This man was obviously the one who tied Tsunayoshi to the Mafia.

"Tsuna-kun needs a Mist Guardian. If you take the Ring, we'll overlook the presence of Vendicare escapees here with you."

Mukuro-sama hissed. To threaten them with that, it was low. Disgusting. Expected of a Mafioso. How had Tsunayoshi managed to escape the toxic influence of this scum?

"I want to see Mukuro-sama," Chrome demanded.

"Rokudo Mukuro is in the deepest level of Vendicare, under sedation."

"Even so. I want to see him, even if we can't talk. You're asking me to give my life for your son. Let me see Mukuro-sama first. That's my condition."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome visits Vendicare

Chrome sat silently on the plane with Sawada. They were travelling to the mountains in Europe – Sawada hadn't been very specific – where Mukuro-sama was being held. Mukuro-sama was raging furiously in his head, demanding that he retract his request, fly back to Japan, and stay away from the Vindice. He was tempted to simply take over his body and do it himself, Chrome could sense it. He pushed all his longing and loneliness and pain at Mukuro-sama, that feeling of 'please, just let me see him'. Sawada had explained that they would be fighting the Varia. It was very possible that Chrome might die without ever setting eyes on his beloved Mukuro-sama, and the thought made his chest ache and his breath catch and his eyes swim with tears. Mukuro-sama brushed unwilling acceptance and fond exasperation over his mind, before retreating to become a quiet, fretting presence in the back of his mind.

"There's no need to cry, Chrome-chan!" Sawada chuckled. Chrome closed his eyes and counted to ten.

Did Sawada really believe that he was a girl? He wasn't even using illusions to give himself a figure, just mannerisms. He'd mostly dropped those once the two of them were alone anyway. Was he unobservant, or did he want Chrome to think he was? Whatever else he was, he was a patronising asshole.

"Such language, Chrome!" Mukuro-sama gasped dramatically. Chrome smiled, not daring to show any more reaction than that. Sawada picked up on it anyway.

"That's better! Smile, you'll be seeing your criminal murderer of a brother soon!"

That was low, and uncalled for. He had known that Sawada was a bastard when he had refused to give him time to even check that Ken and Chikusa were still breathing before hustling him out the door, but this was just petty. Well, if Sawada wanted to play that game, Chrome would oblige.

"And then we can go back to Namimori, and Tsunayoshi can see his criminal murderer of a father?" he asked sweetly. Mukuro-sama kufufu-ed in his head as he watched Sawada's face turn interesting colours. He seemed to be struggling for a response, eventually deciding to glare harshly at him without comment. They sat in silence for the rest of the flight.

The plane landed smoothly, and Sawada told him that there was an hour's hike up to the prison itself. No one was allowed to land closer except the Vindice themselves. Chrome thought it was a smart precaution, and set an illusion of warmth around himself as soon as they exited the plane.

Illusions at their core were convincing the mind that something was real. If the mind believed it strongly enough, the body would respond. Mukuro-sama was a master at it; no other illusionist in history had dared to try something like illusory organs. Chrome's body and brain were tricked into believing that the organs were present, and so they were. According to Mukuro-sama, it had been entirely new when it had been dreamed up by his Family, and although they had slaughtered dozens in their attempts to test it, not even their best illusionists working together could make it work. That Mukuro-sama could do it by himself, from a distance, while Chrome was active and moving, was revolutionary. Which was why the Mafia must never know.

The walk was uneventful. Chrome used illusions to create a warm winter coat for himself, mostly for appearance's sake, in case they encountered anyone else. The psychosomatic value of wearing a thick coat, even if it couldn't actually protect against the biting wind, was surprisingly high. Sawada was dressed for the weather, and didn't even make the gesture of offering Chrome one of the coats he had seen on board the plane. Chrome laughed inwardly at the proof that his barb had struck home. Mukuro-sama spent the walk coming up with elaborate plans for vengeance against the man who would be so cruel and careless with a person he believed to be an innocent girl, whose only crime was being affiliated with a criminal she had never met.

The trek was uneventful. They didn't meet anyone, and they didn't speak to each other. Mukuro-sama used his illusions to ease the burning in his lungs and legs, enjoying the irritated glances Sawada shot him when he saw that he wasn't tired or asking for a break.

All too soon, they were at Vendicare. The giant doors opened as they approached, and they were met by three figures, wrapped head to foot in bandages. Chrome shivered. These were the Vindice. He could feel Mukuro-sama's fear, urging him to run, to leave. His desperation and a fragile seed of hope. It was the hope that made Chrome strong. Some small part of Mukuro-sama believed that there was a way Chrome could rescue him from this Hell. Chrome would not disappoint Mukuro-sama.

"Do not be foolish, my dear Chrome. You are taking far too great a risk simply by being here." Chrome thrilled with quiet joy. He knew that for anyone else, Mukuro-sama would not care what risks they took to get him free. He glowed with pride every time Mukuro-sama showed him how much he was valued.

"Of course you are valued, Chrome," Mukuro-sama sounded almost indignant. It made him smile, even as they were led through the freezing stone corridors to a bare room, lit only by slit windows high on the walls.

"We are here to see Rokudo Mukuro," Sawada announced. He handed over a pile of forms, which the Vindice checked in silence. After a minute, he glided towards the door, waiting a moment for them to follow. He led them down past rows of cells, deep into the heart of the prison. Eventually, they reached a room full of tanks, each surrounded by an array of pipes. They were led through the maze of cylinders until they reached one that was occupied.

Mukuro-sama floated there, motionless.

Chrome screamed. He sank to his knees, shaking. He had thought that he was prepared, but this was like nothing he could have imagined. The man trapped here was like a sickly mockery of the strong, vibrant man who shared the meadow with him, who laughed with him and taught him and protected him. This was nothing but an empty shell. He shouldn't have come here.

Chrome felt a hand on his shoulder. Sawada was patting it awkwardly, trying to comfort him. He shrugged the hand off with a hiss. Now the man wanted to be kind? He wasn't the one who needed comfort!

Chrome couldn't bear to stay in this prison for another moment. Closing his eyes, he slipped into the meadow.

"I'm sorry you saw that, Chrome," Mukuro-sama said as he pulled a brush through Chrome's hair. Chrome sank into the familiar feeling, letting the tension drain away with every stroke of the brush.

"Your hair is longer," Chrome said suddenly.

"Truly?" Mukuro-sama sounded surprised. "I suppose it would be. It is hard to keep track of changes to my body while I am like this. Still, they take good care of it, I suppose."

"I won't let you stay here, Mukuro-sama," Chrome promised. "They can't keep you like this, it isn't fair!"

Mukuro-sama kufufu-ed. "They are the Mafia, my dear Chrome. Fair is hardly the point."

Chrome could tell that he wanted to tell him not to be stupid, to not risk himself. But the desire to be free was overwhelming, and he couldn't bring himself to discourage him.

"You've always protected me, Mukuro-sama," Chrome whispered. "Please, let me protect you."

Mukuro-sama drew him into a hug, holding him close. "You are a treasure, my Chrome."

The meadow faded as Chrome woke up. He was laid on a bench in the room they had first arrived in, with Sawada leaning over him.

"You fainted. Here, sit up carefully." Sawada supported him as he pushed himself into a sitting position. What had changed? Had the man not believed that he actually cared about Mukuro-sama, or was seeing a girl in distress just too overwhelming for him? Either way, he refused to feel grateful. Sawada had already shown his true colours.

Chrome took a deep breath, and turned to face the Vindice who was in the room with them.

"Let me stay here, and let Mukuro-sama be the Mist Guardian."

Sawada immediately scoffed. "I am not going to let the man who tried to kill my son get that close to him."

"I am Mukuro-sama's vessel, Sawada-san. His actions are my actions, his will is my will." Chrome needed to reinforce the idea that they were the same.

"Regardless, the point is moot," the Vindice said calmly. "You are not a criminal, so we will not arrest you. And you have nothing valuable enough to entice us to make a deal."

"I won't fight for you while Mukuro-sama is trapped here," Chrome told Sawada bluntly. "And he's going up against the Varia. You won't be able to find another strong illusionist in time for the battles, so without us, he will lose. And die."

Chrome felt a slight pang at the thought of Tsunayoshi's death. He was a sweet child. Irritating sometimes, and not really Boss material, but he deserved better than the filth of the Mafia. Mukuro-sama would cleanse the world of the Mafia, rather than simply go along with it as Tsunayoshi did. His freedom was a thousand times more important than Tsunayoshi's survival.

Sawada gritted his teeth as he recognised the truth in what Chrome was saying. Had he really expected that self-declared enemies of the Mafia would simply roll over and agree? He must think that they were idiots because they were children. Sawada turned to the Vindice. "What would we need to offer to have Rokudo Mukuro paroled? He's only in maximum security because he's an escape risk, not because of his crimes, so a deal must be possible."

"What the criminal does to earn their place in Maximum Security is irrelevant, Sawada Iemitsu. Unless you are willing to surrender the Vongola Rings to us, there is nothing you possess that we will negotiate for."

"Please," Chrome whispered. He hadn't come all this way to be turned back. There had to be a way! "Is there nothing at all?"

The Vindice ignored his question, and moved back towards the wall as another one of them came through the door. A baby wrapped in bandages with a clear pacifier around its neck sat on the newcomer's shoulder. Was the baby related to Reborn? Was he one of the Arcobaleno? Even Mukuro-sama was confused, watching closely from behind Chrome's eyes. Information on the Strongest Seven was hard to find.

The baby brushed a finger over the pacifier. "You are host to another soul, Chrome Dokuro."

Chrome frowned. "I am Mukuro-sama's vessel."

"No. Not a consciousness, not a spirit. Simply a fragment of a soul. This is something that we have never seen before." His voice was matter-of-fact.

Mukuro took over Chrome's body. "If there had been another soul in here, I would know, Vindice." His voice was skirting around the very edges of politeness, but not even he dared to anger his captors.

"You would not see it. It hides deep within. It has no direct influence. It is simply there. This is interesting, Chrome Dokuro, and potentially of great value to us."

Chrome stayed silent, hardly daring to hope.

"We will parole Rokudo Mukuro. He will be remanded into the custody of the Vongola Family, in the care of the current heir, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Chrome Dokuro will remain with the Vindice as a guarantee for Rokudo Mukuro's good behaviour."

"No!" Mukuro growled. "This is unacceptable. I will not allow you to keep my innocent Chrome here, experimenting to try and find this 'valuable soul' you believe is present."

Chrome fought for control, slamming himself against the weight of Mukuro-sama's presence, but for the first time ever, he refused to move.

"No, my dear Chrome. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me," he whispered. He had known that the Vindice were scum, as all involved in the Mafia were, but he hadn't thought they would sink to the depths of the Estraneo, imprisoning innocent children for their own vile purposes.

"What you wish for is irrelevant, Rokudo Mukuro. We do not make deals with criminals. If Chrome Dokuro has no objections, we will assume that we are all in agreement."

Grudgingly, Mukuro handed control back to Chrome. Chrome pushed all the reassurance and love he could to him, before focussing completely on the baby Vindice.

"Perhaps we might reach a compromise? I will remain here while Mukuro-sama fights for Tsunayoshi. If he is victorious, then he has proven that he is willing to serve Tsunayoshi. Then there will be no need for any hostages for good behaviour."

"Simply winning the battle would be nothing more than a gesture. However, we will be lenient. If Rokudo Mukuro wins his battle, and if Sawada Tsunayoshi wins his, we will release you both into Sawada's custody. However, if either Sawada Tsunayoshi or Rokudo Mukuro lose their battles, Rokudo Mukuro will be returned immediately to Vendicare, where you will both remain."

"What?" Mukuro-sama seized control again. "Why should my victory or defeat mean that Chrome must remain? And why does my freedom depend on Sawada Tsunayoshi?" His voice was a low, poisonous purr by the time he finished speaking.

"Chrome Dokuro's actions are your actions, we have been told. Thus, to imprison one necessitates the imprisonment of the other. And if you are to be released into Sawada Tsunayoshi's custody, he must prove himself powerful enough to control you. This is the final offer that we will make. Chrome Dokuro, do you accept?"

Chrome took control of his body. Mukuro-sama's hope and fear and rage swirled through him, almost overwhelming him. It was impossible to know where one of them stopped and the other began; in the chaos of their emotions they were one. In desperation, he grabbed onto the hope. Mukuro-sama was strong. Tsunayoshi had beaten Mukuro-sama himself, he could surely triumph against the Varia. There was a chance. Their only chance. Their final roll of the dice.

Chrome closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them after a moment, looking straight at the baby Vindice. "Yes. I agree to your terms."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsuna meets his Mist Guardian.

Tsuna was in over his head. He had barely managed to beat Mukuro, he knew that. If Mukuro hadn't hesitated, hadn't given him that opening, he would be a puppet right now. And the Varia sounded like a whole team of Mukuros coming to fight him for a position he didn't want and hadn't asked for. If he refused, or if he lost, they would kill him. And they would kill his friends as well. They were his Guardians now, according to Reborn. His father had given them the Rings, so they would fight against the Varia. He still didn't know who his Mist was, and he felt like throwing up every time he thought about tiny, obnoxious, innocent Lambo fighting against a trained assassin, someone as skilled as the blond who had taken down Basil so easily. Sometimes, when he was lying awake at night listening to Reborn snore, he wanted his old life back. He felt guilty for wishing it, for being willing to surrender the friendships he had gained. But although that life hadn't been as good for him, it had never been this bad, either. He had never had to fight for his life, never had friends whose blood would be on his hands if he failed.

The training was impossible. Climbing a cliff, fighting with Basil? It was beyond him. Reborn expected too much of him, and he knew he would never be able to meet those expectations. He dragged himself back from training, hoping that Reborn would actually let him eat dinner rather than steal it all off his plate.

He almost tripped over Lambo on his way inside. The normally loud boy was hiding in the hallway behind the coat rack.

"Shhh, Tsuna!" he hissed. "I'm playing hide-and-seek!"

"I see," Tsuna said. He was impressed that anyone had managed to convince Lambo to play a game that involved staying still and quiet.

"Kufufu," a terribly familiar voice laughed. "I wonder if Lambo-kun is hiding over here."

"Hieee!" Tsuna shrieked as Rokudo Mukuro came strolling out of the kitchen, I-Pin balanced on one hip.

"I've found I-Pin-chan, now where could Lambo-kun be?"

He made a great show of looking around everywhere, while completely ignoring Tsuna who looked on in horror. Finally, he pushed aside the coats.

"There you are!" he said, smiling that completely friendly smile that had tricked Tsuna before.

"No fair!" Lambo said as he crawled out of hiding. "I was going to win!"

"Fuuta is still hiding," Mukuro said. "I was hoping that you could help me find him. Mama said you're very good at seeking."

"Yeah!" Lambo yelled. "I'll find Fuuta before stupid I-Pin!" He bounded off up the stairs.

"Lambo, rude!" I-Pin chastised as she dashed off after him.

"Hello, Tsunayoshi," Mukuro said, finally turning to face Tsuna.

"What are you doing here?" Tsuna asked. This wasn't good. Why wasn't Reborn doing anything?

"Did your father not tell you? I'm your Mist Guardian."

"What! But you were in prison!"

"And now I am not." Mukuro's face darkened. "And if you win this battle, I will continue to be free."

"What?" Tsuna was incredibly confused.

"Did your father not consult you before he made this choice? It is, after all, your future." Mukuro frowned slightly.

"No! What choice? What's going on, Reborn?" Tsuna wailed. Reborn jumped down from the shelf he had been balanced on.

"Mukuro is your Mist Guardian, Tsuna."

"What else is going on?" Tsuna asked. There was a brittleness to Mukuro that hadn't been there before, as if he could break at any moment. And if Mukuro broke, Tsuna had a feeling that he would bring everything else crashing down around him.

"My Chrome advised me to be honest with you, Tsunayoshi. Come and sit with me."

Mukuro led the way back into the living room. Before they could get settled to talk, I-Pin and Lambo bounded in, dragging Fuuta behind them. Lambo dashed off into the kitchen, demanding snacks from Mama as a prize, with I-Pin chasing after him. Fuuta clutched Tsuna's legs, staring timidly at Mukuro. The blue-haired teen leaned back in his chair, seeming perfectly at ease with being scrutinised by a boy he had kidnapped.

"Why didn't you possess me?" Fuuta asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "You're ranked as number four to use people as pawns, number three in your willingness to destroy the Mafia, and number sixteen most willing to manipulate, torture and kill children! The rankings say you should have possessed me! Why didn't you?"

Mukuro stared at them for a moment, before laughing softly. "Kufufu. You seem more upset that I did not possess you than that I captured you, Ranking Fuuta. If you wish for that to change, I'd be more than willing to oblige."

But he made no move to act. Tsuna remembered finding Fuuta curled up in a corner of Mukuro's room, lying on a sofa that was nicer than any of the other furniture there and covered by a threadbare blanket. He had run over to him as soon as he had seen him. If Fuuta had been possessed, he could have attacked before Tsuna even realised there was a threat. He stared at Mukuro. That hadn't even occurred to him before. It didn't fit with Mukuro's other behaviour. Why would he do that?

"Did Chrome ask you not to hurt children?" Reborn asked solemnly. Mukuro looked taken aback for a moment.

"Kufufufu. Arcobaleno, Chrome is my precious toy. Toys do not make demands."

"A toy? She came all the way to Japan for you! She loves you! Why would you say something so cruel?" Tsuna was horrified.

"So it was your suggestion that she take your place in Vendicare?" Reborn asked.

"Vendicare? Isn't that the prison? She's in prison because of you? Why would I want someone like that as my Mist? That's awful, Mukuro! She trusted you," Tsuna said.

"The Vindice do not negotiate with prisoners, Tsunayoshi," Mukuro hissed. "You will take me as your Mist because unless you and I both win these battles, my precious Chrome will rot in that Hell forever. I had not thought that you could be so cruel as to allow an innocent to suffer so."

"If they don't negotiate with prisoners, then why did they make the swap?" Tsuna asked suspiciously. He knew better than to take Mukuro's words at face value.

"My Chrome offered, and they agreed. They do not believe that you can win, Tsunayoshi, and if you fail both Chrome and I will be trapped in Vendicare forever. To have both of us trapped and helpless was deemed worth the risk."

"But I can't win! They're the Varia, there's no way I could beat them. It's hopeless," Tsuna said pitifully. As if the lives of his friends weren't enough, now Chrome was depending on him as well?

"There are very few people in this world who are worth anything to me, Sawada Tsunayoshi, and one of them is trapped in Vendicare even as we speak. I swear that if Chrome is forced to remain there so much as an extra minute because of you and your weakness, I will show you suffering such that you cannot comprehend!" Mukuro spat.

Tsuna shrank back in his chair. He had never seen Mukuro angry before, not like this. It was terrifying. Shadows started moving around the corners of the room, and he could hear hissing.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that I wanted to leave her there, I just don't know how I can win," he said, panicked.

The room seemed to brighten and the horrible, oppressive aura pushing down on him faded. He realised that Fuuta was crying, his head pushed against Tsuna's leg as he trembled.

"Don't fret, Tsunayoshi. By the time the Varia arrive, you will be ready to face them. I'll make sure of it," Mukuro purred dangerously. This was going to be even worse than Reborn's training, he knew it.

"Dinner, Tsu-kun!" Mama called from the kitchen.

Mukuro rose gracefully to his feet and strolled into the kitchen. Tsuna scrambled to his feet and followed after, with Fuuta holding his hand. Somehow, Reborn was already seated when he got to the table, and Lambo had already started eating. Mukuro was sat as though eating a Tsuna's house was an everyday occurrence, and it was messing with his head.

"It's so nice to meet your friends, Tsu-kun! Mukuro-kun is such a gentleman, and so good with Lambo-kun and I-Pin-chan. Chrome-chan is lucky to have such a sweet brother," Mama said as she dished the food.

"You're very kind, Mama. I would say, rather, I am lucky to have my dear Chrome," Mukuro said.

Mama giggled as he smiled gently, the very picture of a doting big brother. He didn't look like someone who could leave his sister in prison while he walked free. Mukuro was so confusing.

"Where is Chrome-chan? She was so excited to see you," Nana said.

"Unfortunately, we missed each other yet again. Chrome was called back to Italy as I was sent for Japan. We were unable to spend more than a few minutes together," Mukuro said.

"Oh, how sad! Surely you could have spent more time together," Nana said, upset.

"Unfortunately, my visit to Japan is a matter of some urgency. I have barely a week to prepare Tsuna, after all."

"What's Tsu-kun preparing for? He hasn't mentioned anything," Nana said.

"Nothing! There's nothing going on! Haha, you're so funny, Mukuro," Tsuna jumped in desperately. Surely Mukuro wasn't going to actually tell Mama about the Varia?

"Don't be silly, Tsunayoshi. Being nominated as," Reborn had his gun pointed at Mukuro, who continued regardless, "The next Boss of the Vongola Family is hardly 'nothing'." Mukuro finished gleefully.

"The next Boss? How exciting!" Nana gushed.

"I'm sure Iemitsu can tell you everything, Mama," Reborn said.

Why hadn't Reborn stepped in? He looked furious, but he wasn't interfering. Was this another test? How was he supposed to stop Mukuro saying anything?

"But this is Tsu-kun's news. Why didn't you tell me? I knew this tutor was going to make a leader of the new generation!" Mama said.

"Tsunayoshi is simply embarrassed to be nominated so suddenly. Since Iemitsu is so close to the Boss of Vongola Construction, whom he works for, Nono nominated Tsuna as the next Boss after the tragic deaths of his three eldest children. Nono's youngest son, Xanxus, is also in the running to be the Boss. Nono decided that the best way to decide between them was a series of competitions to test their daring, leadership and teamwork. I've been asked to tutor Tsunayoshi, since he wasn't raised in the Vongola business like Xanxus," Mukuro explained.

Tsuna was speechless. Mukuro had managed to explain the situation without any lie, and make it sound completely harmless and benign, as though this was some kind of sports day. How had he done that?

"So you're from Italy like Gokudera-kun?" Mama asked.

"I am. I was raised by a Family in the same business as the Vongola, so I'm familiar with it. It doesn't seem that Tsunayoshi was learning as quickly as he could with Gokudera-kun, so I'll be helping to speed the process along. By the end of the event, Tsunayoshi will be true Boss material or die trying."

When Mukuro said that, it sounded like he was being terrifyingly literal.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome talks to Mukuro. Tsuna talks to Mukuro.

"Mukuro-sama!" Chrome flung himself across the meadow and into Mukuro's arms. Spending the entire day cut off from him had been torture. He had spent longer out of contact, but he had grown used to the presence in the back of his mind, even if they couldn't talk. To be forced to cut the connection had wrenched his heart, but he refused to put Mukuro-sama at risk by reneging on the deal.

"Where did you go, Chrome?" Mukuro-sama asked, pulling back slightly to examine Chrome's face, looking for signs of distress.

"According to the Vindice, talking to you affects the results of their monitoring somehow. I'm not to have any contact with you without permission."

"How are they monitoring you? And how did you get permission to meet?"

"I didn't." Chrome blushed. That was the problem with the meadow – their bodies showed emotions plainly. When he was embarrassed, he blushed, when he was sad, he cried. Mukuro-sama could control his reactions, but Chrome wasn't quite that skilled.

"I can't help reaching out to you when I sleep. I wouldn't know how to go about stopping it." Chrome admitted.

Mukuro-sama brushed a hand over his hair. "I must admit, my dear Chrome, that I gain a great deal of comfort from these meetings. I was," he paused, "uneasy when you vanished."

Mukuro admitting that anything bothered him was rare, so Chrome thrilled at the admission.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Chrome told him, only a fraction of his attention on the bracelet he was weaving out of flowers.

"Don't fret, my Chrome. For now, it is best to obey. How are the Vindice treating you?" Chrome had no doubt that if he told Mukuro-sama they were hurting him, he would want to storm Vendicare himself. He wouldn't of course; Mukuro-sama was far too practical for that.

"It's not too bad," Chrome assured him. "The room is a cell, but I think that's more because they lack other accommodation. I was taken outside for an hour today, and told that will happen daily. They gave me books, and if I want more I just have to request them. They have some kind of pads stuck to me, monitoring brain waves and heart rate and all kinds of things." Chrome honestly had no idea how they worked, but other than how ridiculous he looked with them stuck to him, and that they itched slightly, he had no problem with them. "A Mist examined me, and she was the one who found the connection to you. She insisted I cut off the connection to you so that it didn't interfere with the tests. Apparently, there's a more qualified Mist they want to get on board but he – or she, they weren't clear – won't be available until after these battles you're having. The baby Vindice was annoyed about that, because if you win, he won't get to run the tests he wants because I'll be released before the expert arrives."

Mukuro-sama slid on the flower bracelet he offered, smiling slightly. Chrome went to work on a necklace as Mukuro considered what he had been told.

"The expert is most likely the Varia's Mist. Information on the Varia is relatively scarce; I'll know more once they arrived."

If Mukuro-sama wasn't monitoring them the moment they stepped foot in Japan, Chrome would be shocked.

"How is preparation for the battles going?" Chrome asked.

"They are all training. Yamamoto with a sword, which I fear may be a mistake; Superbi Squalo defeated the Sword Emperor himself. Still, apparently he is a prodigy. The five year old is the Lightning Guardian, so that match should simply be written off as a loss. No matter what tricks the boy has, he doesn't stand a chance against the Varia. Sasagawa is training with one of Reborn's associates. He asked after you, by the way. Your friends miss you. Kyoko and Haru are both charming young ladies."

Chrome smiled at the thought of his friends. It was a strange feeling, having people who liked him for himself, but one that he appreciated. He was glad that Mukuro-sama liked them.

"The Skylark is training with the Cavallone. He's out of town, and I don't believe he knows that I'm present." Mukuro grinned. "I'm looking forward to our rematch. And Tsunayoshi…"

His smile dropped. Chrome understood; the Tsuna that he had met did not inspire confidence. He was a ball of fluff, squealing and flailing and completely unable to corral his friends. Still, he had managed to beat Mukuro-sama, so he must have hidden talents that Chrome hadn't seen.

"Tsunayoshi has a lack of self-confidence which is crippling. The training is helping, but if he cannot even hold his own against his father's protégé, he will stand no chance against Xanxus himself."

"Iemitsu had a protégé?" Chrome couldn't imagine anyone being able to stand Iemitsu long enough to be taught by him.

"A young man named Basil. He has Rain flames, and is able to activate Hyper Dying Will mode with the help of special pills. Quite the little prodigy. I think you would like him." Mukuro said, creating an image of a teenage boy with dirty blond hair and the biggest blue eyes Chrome had ever seen.

"He's pretty," Chrome said without thinking, before blushing bright red. Mukuro-sama had helped him through his tangled feelings when he realised that he liked boys and girls, and had politely ignored the powerful, but thankfully fleeting, crush Chrome had held for him, but he still wasn't comfortable bringing the topic up.

"Isn't he?" Mukuro chuckled slightly but otherwise didn't comment, letting Chrome keep what remained of his dignity.

"How are Ken and Chikusa?" Chrome asked, casting around desperately for another topic of conversation. He was still angry that Iemitsu hadn't given him time to check on them.

"They are well. Iemitsu did no permanent damage. Both of them are helping me train Tsunayoshi. Attacks from multiple angles are helping him with his situational awareness; he is showing glimmers of the famed Vongola Hyper Intuition. Chikusa is enjoying your green jacket."

Chrome laughed slightly, remembering the fights that the pair had had over the jacket that Mukuro had picked out. He was glad to hear that the pair were alright. He could only imagine how the reunion had gone, with Ken leaping at Mukuro, Chikusa giving one of his rare smiles and Mukuro-sama for once surrendering his invincible façade to laugh and greet his friends. Even if this gamble failed, he was glad that he had been able to give them that.

"You are far too self-sacrificing, dear Chrome," Mukuro murmured, joining him in weaving flowers.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, basking in each other's presence and enjoying the quiet. After a while, Chrome traded his purple necklace for Mukuro's crown of blue and red.

"How on earth did you manage to keep Kokuyo Land clean?" Mukuro-sama asked idly. "Without the advantage of magic, I must confess we're finding it difficult. The illusion of cleanliness does little to eradicate dust, I'm afraid, and Chikusa's lungs are especially sensitive."

"Hard work and years of experience," Chrome said wryly, remembering years spent cleaning for the Dursley's. "I didn't use any magic to clean, by the way."

Mukuro thought back through the weeks Chrome had spent in Japan and realised he was right. "Why not?"

"I researched Japan while you were busy with your plan," Chrome told him. "The Magical community there is one of the strictest in the world. Technically, it's illegal for me to be in Japan at all, but because I arrived as a Muggle, they didn't know I was there. If I had used magic, even for cleaning, they would have tracked me down immediately." Chrome shivered slightly.

"What would the penalties have been?" Mukuro-sama asked, concerned by the fearful look on Chrome's face. The boy had faced the Vindice without flinching, after all.

"No one knows, or if they do they aren't talking. People just vanish. Bodies turn up sometimes, in their home countries with a polite note attached about trespassing. I wasn't going to risk it for cleaning."

"You should have told me, Chrome. I didn't realise you were walking into such danger." Mukuro-sama chided gently.

"I'm sorry, Mukuro-sama. But I know you would have worried, and there wasn't anything you could have done. Besides, I hardly use magic at all. There isn't much it can do that illusions can't, with enough imagination." Chrome explained apologetically.

"Very true," Mukuro said, idly creating lotus flowers in the air, twisting them into elaborate knots.

"Poor Reborn is loathing my very presence," Mukuro commented after a few minutes, twisting his flowers to form a fedora.

"Any reason why?" Chrome asked. "Besides the obvious?"

"The deal with the Vindice means that I can train Tsunayoshi in the way I find most effective. If he interferes with my training, he's sabotaging the deal, which is not something any sane person would want to do."

"And I suppose you're taking advantage of that?" Chrome asked, grinning. He hadn't been fond of Tsuna's shoulder-baby, who had regarding him with something between suspicion and outright hostility. He seemed to have taken it as a personal offence that he hadn't known of the existence of Mukuro's 'sister'.

"Would I do that?" Mukuro said, putting on his most innocent face. "Watching him flinch as I almost reveal the Mafia to Nana is amusing, and I refuse to be bound by his schedule for Tsunayoshi's training. He is banking on ten days that I'm not sure we have."

Chrome decided to focus on the first part of Mukuro-sama's speech. "Are you allowed to tell Nana about the Mafia? And why can't he intervene there; it's not part of training?"

"As Iemitsu's spouse, Nana can be told without breaking Omerta. And if I feel Tsunayoshi would be more able to train with his mother informed, I can tell her, as Reborn knows. I haven't, yet, but if Iemitsu annoys me too much, I will."

Chrome smiled. Some of Mukuro-sama's sadistic nature had rubbed off on him; he loved the thought of anything that caused Iemitsu pain, and he didn't particularly care about Nana Sawada's peace of mind either. Mukuro-sama laughed as Chrome created an illusion of Iemitsu cowering as Nana scolded him for keeping secrets, brandishing a frying pan.

"Will you tell Kyoko and Haru?" Chrome asked, adding a shrieking Tsuna to his illusion.

"Not until after the battles. As civilians, they're safe from the Varia. If they knew about the Vongola, they would be fair game, and I don't doubt that Xanxus would take advantage. For now, their ignorance protects them."

Chrome shuddered as he contemplated his innocent friends being targeted by assassins, before jumping as he felt a sharp tug, losing control of the illusion which vanished into smoke. It was an incredibly strange sensation, even more the Apparating.

"What is going on?" Mukuro-sama asked, climbing to his feet and glancing around the meadow, trying to identify the source of danger.

Suddenly, the meadow, and Mukuro-sama, began to dissolve around Chrome. Desperately, he reached for Mukuro, who slipped through his fingers like mist as his world faded to black.

* * *

Tsuna sat on his bed, staring down at the ring that was ruining his life. He had thought that he was getting stronger. He could beat Basil, he could beat Mukuro, and even Reborn said he was getting better. But facing the Varia, looking into the face of their leader, he was reminded that Basil had been thoroughly defeated by Squalo, who himself was weaker than Xanxus, his opponent. He didn't stand a chance, and all of his friends were going to die because he was too weak to protect them.

He was broken out of his maudlin thoughts by a knock on his door.

"Come in!" he called, startled. No one ever knocked; he had gotten used to people barging into his room at all hours of the day.

Mukuro entered the room and sat primly on his only chair. Tsuna stared in shock. Mukuro had never been in his room before. He had seemed offended when Tsuna asked if he had looked in while he had been out. Given the nature of his talents, physical privacy seemed like a bizarre thing for Mukuro, of all people, to respect, but at least it meant there was one room in the house that he was safe from the sadistic illusionist.

"You did well today, Tsunayoshi," Mukuro said.

"What?" Tsuna yelped. "I could barely even stay standing up! There's no way I'm actually going to be able to beat him," he finished morosely, before flinching. Mukuro didn't like it when he expressed his 'ridiculous and counterproductive defeatist attitude'.

Mukuro just sighed, rather than punishing him. "But you did stay standing. Before you faced me, you had no faith that you could win. You don't flourish in training, Tsunayoshi, but when you face challenges you manage to overcome them. Have faith in yourself, and in your friends. Goodness knows they refuse to abandon you, even when sanity dictates that they should."

Tsuna knew that his friends would stand by him, even against the squad of psychotic murderers. That was what bothered him.

"Are you alright?" he asked hesitantly. It had been bothering him. Mukuro was a surprisingly good teacher, and Tsuna had found his tutoring more useful than Reborn's at points, even if it had been equally terrifying. But for the last few days, Mukuro had been acting strange. He had swung between anger and apathy too quickly for Tsuna to follow. Ken and Chikusa hadn't left his side at all during training, but not even they could make Mukuro smile or calm down. And his illusions corresponded to his mood swings, which was disturbing and mildly traumatic. Tsuna was glad that Mukuro only came to his house to eat, and slept at Kokuyo Land, because sharing a house with him when he was like this scared him even more than spending time with him normally.

"Chrome is no longer in contact with me. The Vindice are not kind even at their best. I fear for my dear one's safety, and the longer this takes, the greater the chance that permanent damage is done."

Tsuna was horrified. "I thought the Vindice were just holding her. They can't actually hurt her, can they?" Like with the Varia, he had assumed things that weren't true. With the Varia, he had been banking on ten days. With Chrome, he had trusted that she would be safe until they could free her. But if she was hurt because of him, because he was too slow, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Mukuro chuckled, a sound which made his skin crawl. It was a broken, bitter sound. "The Vindice are the law, Tsunayoshi. They do as they wish. If they say that Chrome was hurt trying to escape, or was simply unable to cope with the solitude, who will contradict them?"

"I…" Tsuna trailed off, not knowing what to say. "When we win, and they release her, will you be safe then? Will they be able to drag you back?"

Mukuro's face went absolutely blank. "As long as I serve you, we will be free from the Vindice. Should we betray you, or you reject us, we will be returned to Vendicare."

Tsuna stared at Mukuro, too shocked to speak. He had known that Mukuro acting as his Mist was one of the conditions, but it was permanent? He held Mukuro's life in his hand, and Chrome's as well. Why would the illusionist trust him so much? One word from him could send Mukuro back to a place that he feared so much.

"I won't reject you," Tsuna declared. "I won't reject and I won't send you back there, but I won't make you work for me, either." Mukuro watched him silently as he continued. "You hate the Mafia. It wouldn't be right for me to force you to work for them. After the Ring Battles, if you want to go your own way, you can. I promise." His swell of confidence faded as suddenly as it had come. "I mean, if you want to stay, I would be happy for you to be my friend. We are friends, aren't we?"

"Friends," Mukuro said slowly. "You are a puzzle, Tsunayoshi. So naïve. You are far too pure for the filth of the Mafia."

Tsuna stared at the ring for a long time after Mukuro left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Life got difficult for a while, but I'm starting to get my head back together.
> 
> Unless someone makes a fantastically good case for a pairing, this story will remain gen.
> 
> I'm putting everything else on hold until I finish the Varia arc for this. Fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of writing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome makes another friend, and the Ring Battles start.

The blank-faced Mist who had examined him before didn't say anything once she was sure Chrome was awake. She just left him on the bed and strode out of the cell, taking the duvet and pillows with her. Chrome sat on the hard mattress and shivered, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself. He wondered how they were going to punish him for this. He couldn't control whether or not he saw Mukuro-sama when he slept, and even if he could, he wouldn't. Even if they decided to keep him in one of the terrifying water tanks, he wouldn't give up Mukuro-sama for anything. So he sat, and shivered, and waited, not daring to move from where the woman had sat him as he waited for his judgement.

He had no idea how long it was before one of the Vindice came in. Long enough for the cold to seep into his bones.

"You were told to have no mental contact with the criminal Rokudo Mukuro," the Vindice said emotionlessly. "Our examiner believes that you have no control over the connection formed during sleep. This should have been disclosed during the examination, when you were informed of the requirements of our investigation."

Chrome stayed silent, watching through the curtain of his lank blue hair.

"You are no longer permitted to sleep. You will be monitored to ensure that you do not disobey. If it becomes necessary, chemical stimulants will be provided. Physical activity will be limited to preserve your energy, and mental stimulation will be encouraged. If there is any game or diversion you desire, inform one of the guards. A companion will be provided to encourage mental activity and alertness."

With that, the bandaged man glided out of the cell as silently as he had entered. Chrome slowly unfolded himself from his curled up position, wincing as his stiff limbs protested the movement. Not allowed to sleep? He was fairly sure that sleep deprivation was a form of torture. Being separated from Mukuro-sama was a torture all of its own, and he wasn't sure how long he could endure the two combined. The illusion that created his organs was still holding steady, seeming unaffected by the lack of mental contact with Mukuro-sama. When he had created them, Mukuro-sama had told him that they would only falter when Mukuro himself was injured, exhausted or otherwise unable to power them. Now, they were his only way of knowing that Mukuro-sama was alright. As long as they held, they were both alive. They would live or die together.

It was an hour later that a guard arrived, bringing with him a girl with bright red hair. Chrome recognised her in the same way that he had Chikusa and Ken; Mukuro had shown him all of his companions. This girl was M.M., who was obsessed with money and used a clarinet as a weapon. Mukuro-sama had admired her ingenuity and perseverance. Since women were imprisoned separately from men, he had been unable to take her with them when they escaped. Chrome was glad that she was well, and felt slightly guilty that it hadn't even occurred to him to ask after her.

"So, I just have to babysit her, right?" M.M. demanded of the guard as she entered Chrome's cell.

"That is correct. Should you require anything not currently supplied, or if you wish to take part in an activity outside of this room, please inform a guard." With that, the bandaged man left, and the two teens stared awkwardly at each other.

"So, what do you like doing? I'm M.M., by the way," his visitor said, sitting down gingerly on the metal chair next to the equally utilitarian desk.

"Chrome. Pleased to meet you. I enjoy training, but I'm not allowed to use my illusions right now. I mostly talk to Mukuro-sama when I'm bored, but…" Chrome trailed off, feeling another sharp pang of grief at the silence in the back of his head.

"Is there anything you do for fun?" M.M. asked, staring around at the dull cell. There were a few books stacked in one corner, and a completed jigsaw puzzle, but that was it for entertainment.

"I practice, so I'm strong enough to help Mukuro-sama. I go shopping. Mukuro-sama likes seeing what clothes are available, he knows far more about fashion that I do. If Mukuro-sama asks, I-"

"Do you have any interests that don't revolve around Mukuro?" M.M. cut him off exasperatedly.

Chrome had to think hard. Since he had first dreamt of Mukuro-sama, his entire life had been built around the older boy. There were subjects he had enjoyed at Hogwarts, but those had been because of how useful they would be to Mukuro. His favourite hobby was practicing his illusions to impress Mukuro-sama, and the highlight of his day was talking to him. What did he have that wasn't used to please, impress or be useful to Mukuro?

"In Namimori, I enjoyed spending time with Kyoko and Haru," Chrome said slowly. "We tried different cakes together. Mukuro-sama isn't fond of sweets." He wondered how the girls were doing. Did they miss him? He missed them; their complete acceptance and warm, unconditional friendship was something that he had never experienced before.

"Friends and cake." M.M. didn't sound impressed. "It's better than nothing, I suppose. Anything else?"

"Mukuro-sama is fond of children, and I'm not," Chrome offered.

"Really?" M.M. sounded surprised. "I suppose Mukuro did leave the boy alone. I thought that was because of you."

"I wouldn't have liked him hurting a child," Chrome said indignantly. Just because he thought most children were loud, irritating, messy vulnerabilities – even well-behaved ones like Fuuta – didn't mean that he would approve of one being tortured.

"Did he tell you about me?" Chrome asked after an awkward pause. Mukuro-sama had told him a lot of stories about his companions, but it had never occurred to him to ask whether Mukuro was telling them any stories in return.

"He told us that he had someone in England who was important to him. He wanted to cleanse the world and make it safe and new for him. He never really gave us any details, though. I don't think even Ken and Chikusa knew your name. If you hadn't been a boy, I might have thought you were a threat."

"A threat?" He had worked hard to make sure that he wasn't Mukuro-sama's weak point. Even now, Mukuro's freedom was down to him.

"A threat for his affections." M.M. rolled her eyes at him.

Chrome frowned in confusion before he realised what the pink-haired girl meant.

"What? No!" He yelped. M.M. laughed at him, and he threw a paperback book at her, blushing furiously.

His brief and humiliating crush notwithstanding, he had never considered Mukuro-sama in a romantic light. He was an older brother and a mentor, but the thought of being intimate with him – physically, they had mentally been as intimate as it was possible for two people to be – turned his stomach. It felt incestuous.

"So, do you know what Mukuro's doing now?" M.M. asked, taking pity on the furiously blushing Chrome.

"I don't know what day it is," Chrome said, "but he'll either be tormenting Tsuna and Reborn, or watching the Battles. I don't know if they've started yet."

"Tormenting Reborn?" M.M. asked. "Tormenting Sawada is part of his training, but how could he torment the baby?"

Chrome grinned. "The deal we came to with the Vindice says that Mukuro gets to train Tsuna in any way he likes, as long it doesn't break any laws."

M.M. shot him a sceptical look.

" _Our_ laws," he clarified. "Reborn hates that he training is being interfered with, but he can't stop Mukuro-sama. That would be violating the deal between the Vindice and Mukuro-sama, and no one in their right mind would antagonise the Vindice."

"Of course not," M.M. drawled sarcastically. "Who in their right mind would demand to visit, bargain with them, strike a deal to release a notorious prisoner and then violate their orders to communicate with him?"

"It was for Mukuro-sama. Besides, I never claimed to be in my right mind." Chrome was well aware that most people would consider him at the very least slightly unstable. "Anyway, that means that Reborn can't interfere. And 'training' can cover a lot of things."

"Do tell," M.M. said, leaning forward. She hadn't been a part of Mukuro's gang because she loved peace and goodwill, after all.

"Sawada Nana is married to Sawada Iemitsu, which means that she can be told about the Mafia without violating Omerta. If Mukuro-sama thinks it would be beneficial to Tsuna's training if his mother was in the know, he had the right to tell her. Reborn can't do anything about it, and neither can Iemitsu."

M.M. sat back in her chair. "You know, that smile is kind of creepy."

Chrome hadn't realised that he was grinning at the thought of Iemitsu's pain.

"Sorry," he said, schooling his face into a more socially acceptable expression.

"No problem," M.M. said. "So, since I'm here to keep you entertained and awake, what do you want to do?"

Until then, Chrome had managed to ignore the nagging tiredness. At the reminder that he wasn't allowed to sleep, his eyes started itching and he became aware of the dull headache pounding in his skull. The short sleep he had been allowed hadn't really refreshed him, and exhaustion was already pushing at him. He remember M.M.'s exasperation at his lack of interests outside of Mukuro, and decided to try and cultivate the one he had. He might as well put the lessons about cooking Aunt Petunia had beaten into him to good use.

"We could see if this place had a kitchen," he suggested, pushing himself to his feet. "I get the feeling that I'm going to need a lot of sugar to get through this."

* * *

"The lights!" Tsuna screamed, praying the Ryohei would hear him. "Take out the lights!"

Ryohei heard him, but he didn't understand. "Don't worry, Sawada! With these glasses I can see extremely well!"

"They're too hot!" Tsuna tried to make him understand. "They're dehydrating you! They're making you sweat!"

"How can light make you sweat? I extremely don't understand!" Ryohei bellowed, barely dodging another blow from his opponent.

"Leave it, Tsuna," Reborn told him quietly. "He won't understand, and he can't afford to be distracted."

Reborn was right. Ryohei was barely keeping up with his opponent, taking glancing blows that were enough to make him grunt with pain. Lussuria was laughing, high-pitched and mocking, every time Ryohei stumbled, taunting him every time he climbed back to his feet. Every second the match continued, Ryohei grew more dehydrated, his reactions slowed, his punches grew weaker and his blocks more sloppy.

"At least Lussuria is heating up as well," Yamamoto offered. "It's a fair game."

"No thanks to them," Gokudera grumbled, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on the ring. Tsuna was willing to bet that he was clutching his dynamite.

Gokudera had a point. The Varia had been perfectly fine with having an unfair advantage, letting Ryohei be blinded by the lights while Lussuria was protected by his sunglasses, and only Mukuro's unexpected gift had put them back on a level playing field. How much worse would Ryohei be suffering if he couldn't even see his opponent? Not that he could see him well at the moment, with how fast the man was moving. His skills seemed inhuman. Even with his Dying Will, Tsuna didn't think he would be able to match that speed, and Xanxus was sure to be even better. Almost all of his buoyant optimism from the morning had drained away, leaving fear and a dull sense of hopelessness.

A hopelessness that Mukuro intensified tenfold. "He's playing with him now."

"What?" Tsuna stared at Mukuro in horror.

"Lussuria is just playing. He could end this battle at any time. He's drawing it out for his own pleasure now, indulging his sadism." Mukuro sounded vaguely disapproving.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Gokudera spat spitefully.

"Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said reproachfully. He knew that Gokudera was just worried about Ryohei, who had just taken a punch straight to the chest, and been sent flying backwards into the bars of the age, but that was no excuse to talk to Mukuro like that. They had all come to an unspoken agreement not to bring up the past, and Mukuro had made a surprising amount of effort not to antagonise anyone.

"I'm sorry, Jyuudaime!" Gokudera wailed, throwing himself into a deep bow.

Mukuro chuckled as Tsuna flailed awkwardly, still unsure about how to deal with Gokudera's unwanted deference.

"There is a time and place for indulging yourself. Sasagawa is a child, and as innocent as anyone I have ever met. There is no call for this. There is no vengeance to be fulfilled, no message to be sent, no purpose served here. I might have hoped that the elite of the Mafia were above such displays of wanton violence. Their reputation must be overstated, if they rely on such displays against outmatched opponents to intimidate."

Although Mukuro was talking to Tsuna, disgust clear in his tone and the sneer on his face, his voice carried clearly over the field.

"I am not extremely outmatched!" Ryohei gasped, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he tried to push himself to his feet.

Tsuna trembled, his hands clenched into fists. Ryohei was bruised and bloody, one arm bent at an impossible angle and held against his body. He wanted to stop the match, to end these pointless battles altogether, but it was too late. Ryohei would never forgive him, and neither would Mukuro. He would never forgive himself. So all he could do was watch with despair and helpless rage as Lussuria laughed, kicking Ryohei over just as he managed to make it to his knees, planting a foot on his chest.

"Oh yes you are. Hate to break it to you sweetie, but I could take that ring from around your neck right here and now." He leered as he stroked Ryohei's chest, dragging his hand up to catch the chain holding the ring and cup Ryohei's chin.

"Then do it and stop wasting time!" the blond who had attacked them before – Squalo – bellowed.

Tsuna hadn't expected help to come from that corner, but he was suddenly ridiculously grateful to Squalo as Lussuria slowly drew the chain over Ryohei's head and locked the two ring halves together. Tsuna didn't even wait for the Cervello to announce the result as he dashed down to the ring, his friends following behind. Ryohei's eyes were barely tracking as Dino's men loaded him onto a stretcher, but he was still conscious, still alive.

Tsuna stood in the ring, Reborn on his shoulder. He couldn't bear to look at Gokudera and Yamamoto, couldn't stand it if he saw fear or judgement in their eyes. After all, it was his fault that Ryohei was hurt, his fault that they were all risking their lives. He couldn't face them, but he didn't think he had the right to leave. So he stood awkwardly, studying the smears of Ryohei's blood that painted an awful picture of the match that had taken place, until something shoved hard against his back.

He stumbled into Gokudera, who wrapped his arms around him automatically.

"You're trembling, Jyuudaime," Gokudera said as he held him close. Despite himself, Tsuna relaxed into the warmth and security the hug promised.

"It's all my fault," Tsuna mumbled, face pressed uncomfortably into his friend's chest. "Onii-san is hurt because of me."

He felt arms wrap around his back.

"Is this is a team huddle?" Yamamoto asked brightly, pressing himself against both Tsuna and Gokudera, hugging them tightly.

Tsuna could only laugh as Gokudera squirmed, trying to keep hold of Tsuna and remove Yamamato, who seemed determined to hold on. By the time they broke apart, he was feeling better. His friends were still with him, and he felt like he might actually stand a chance.


	8. Chapter 8

When Tsuna arrived downstairs, Lambo was already bouncing around, shouting and cheering about playing in the rain and the new waterproof boots Mama had got him. As soon as he saw Tsuna, he ran over, babbling at an incomprehensible pace about the rain, and snacks and the green plaster with frogs on it that Mama had bought just for him. Apparently he had scratched his arm while chasing I-Pin around the garden. It was a tiny scratch, but Lambo was treating it like it was a battle wound.

Tsuna made admiring noises which seemed to satisfy Lambo, who bounced off again. Tsuna was glad he wasn't upset or scared, but he knew it was because Lambo didn't understand what was happening. If a scratch was enough to demand special attention, Tsuna was terrified at the thought of him taking even a fraction of the damage Ryohei had the night before. He didn't want to force Lambo to fight, especially against such a scary guy. But he had been warned not to let him use the bazooka, and he wasn't allowed to forfeit a match. He just didn't know what to do.

Reborn appeared out of nowhere, as usual, kicking him in the head and breaking him out of his spiral of misery before jumping down to sit at the table, drinking coffee that Mama didn't seem to have a problem with an apparent two-year-old drinking. At Reborn's suggestion, Nana was spending the evening at a spa, getting her hair and nails done, so that Tsuna could have the house to himself, to prepare for the fight. Even his beloved oblivious mother would have noticed something wrong, with Tsuna wound tighter than piano wire. He didn't trust Lambo not to invite her to the match. And oblivious as she was, she wouldn't be able to avoid noticing Lambo coming home injured. Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto would be arriving soon, after making sure that Haru and Kyoko-chan were at the hospital and safely out the way of the fight. Tsuna was glad that his Kaa-san was out of the path of danger as well.

Seeing the Sun match, where Ryohei had been so thoroughly defeated, had been a horrifying wake-up call. Tsuna had known it would be dangerous, but Ryohei had been completely outclassed, and he had spent the whole ten days training with Colonello to prepare! If he had been beaten so easily, what chance did the rest of them have? Yamamoto would be going up against a master swordsman, with only ten days of training under his belt. Gokudera-kun would be fighting someone who Reborn had told him was a genius, and absolutely in love with bloodshed. Mukuro-san was confident about his match, but he had so much at stake, Tsuna was terrified for him, and for his sister. He liked Chrome-chan! She was sweet, and pretty, and kind, and had forgiven Gokudera-kun for throwing dynamite at her. She didn't deserve to be locked up like a criminal.

Tonight was Lambo's turn. His only hope of victory was the Ten-Year Bazooka, but Adult Lambo had already warned him not to let Lambo use it. Without that, Lambo didn't stand a chance, but Reborn had told him forfeits weren't allowed. Lambo didn't have a choice but to fight, and Tsuna didn't see any way he could win. Or even survive.

Reborn glared at him, and Tsuna squealed reflexively. Reborn hit him with the Leon mallet, ignoring Lambo's gleeful laugh at Tsuna's pain.

"Stop thinking like a loser, Dame-Tsuna. You need to have faith in your guardians."

"Lambo is five! I'm not so pathetic that I need to be guarded by a five-year-old, Reborn! Believing that he can beat a trained killer isn't faith; it's insanity."

A knock at the door interrupted the argument, and the next ten minutes were spent in utter chaos, with Gokudera shouting at Lambo, Yamamoto laughing instead of helping, and Tsuna rushing around, catching things that were knocked over and trying to defuse the argument.

It was only as they were headed out the door into the rain, Lambo running ahead and gleefully splashing into every puddle he saw, that Yamamoto asked where Mukuro was.

Tsuna yelped in shock. "I didn't even think of that! He left this afternoon, and I don't know where he went. Will he be watching with us? He said he would be, but I thought he would meet us at the house."

Tsuna still didn't entirely trust Mukuro. He couldn't forget how badly he had hurt Hibari-san, and Ryohei. Despite himself, he was coming to like the older boy, with his sharp sense of humour and surprisingly patient style of teaching, but he didn't like him vanishing before such an important fight. He knew that they were on the side, and Mukuro had more reason than anyone to want them to win, but he couldn't shake the suspicious voice in his head (which sounded a lot like Reborn).

"I apologise for my tardiness, Tsunayoshi-kun," a voice drawled from behind him, making him jump and squeak in shock. "Ken and Chikusa wanted to support Lambo-kun as well. It took longer than we thought it would to find our waterproof jackets."

Ken and Chikusa had skipped Ryohei's battle, so Tsuna hadn't thought they were interested in any match except Mukuro's. But here they were, wrapped up in raincoats, Ken scowling and Chikusa as expressionless as always.

"Thanks for coming," Tsuna said, smiling timidly at the intimidating trio.

"Now the whole team's here, apart from Sasagawa-sempai!" Yamamoto declared cheerfully.

Mukuro just chuckled ominously and followed them up to the roof of the school, Ken and Chikusa trailing after him.

The three of them stood back, away from the group, so Tsuna ignored them as he tried to convince Lambo to take the match seriously. He thought it was a fairground ride! The group cheer made him feel a little better, but he felt his heart in his throat as he watched Lambo-kun skip across the metal bars.

As the match went on, he felt his fury at his father, which had been at a low burn, rekindle. Why didn't he tell Tsuna about Lambo's special ability with lightning? Why didn't he make it clear what Lambo was supposed to do? He had accepted that the man didn't care about him at all a long time ago, but he couldn't believe the man was so careless with the life of an innocent five-year-old.

For a few minutes, he thought there was a chance that Lambo might actually win. The twenty five-year-old Lambo was skilled and obviously experienced and powerful. Levi wasn't taking him seriously, so if he could just get one good attack in, he might be able to win the match!

Then a puff of smoke, and the five-year-old was back. Tsuna couldn't stand watching as he was beaten by the sadistic assassin. He didn't care if it cost them the match, he had to interfere. He had to stop this!

He had barely shifted his weight forward when vines wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides and tugging the gloves from his pocket. He could feel their pressure around his chest, and warm air against his neck.

"If you interfere, Tsunayoshi, if you cost me my freedom through your idiocy, then I can guarantee I will not go down alone," Mukuro hissed in his ear as the illusionary vines squeezed him tighter and tighter, until he could hardly breathe.

"I need to save Lambo!" he gasped, refusing to let the child go.

"If you interfere, you will forfeit your ring. If that is counted as forfeiting your match, then any further fighting becomes pointless. The Varia will win. You and your friends will die. And I will ensure that your precious mother and darling Kyoko-chan share that fate."

"No! Mukuro, you can't!"

Tsuna could hear Mukuro laughing in his ear, forming a terrifying harmony with Lambo's screams and whimpers as the assassin toyed with him.

"Why not? You are willing to take everything I love from me. Do you doubt that I am capable of returning the favour? Do not underestimate me, Sawada Tsunayoshi, and do not think for a moment that I follow you out of sentiment. If you cannot serve my goals I have no need of you. So choose. Will you sacrifice your friends and family, for no gain at all?"

"Chrome-chan wouldn't want you to hurt them!"

"My dear Chrome will likely not be sane for long enough to resent me for it. The innocent never last long in Vindicare."

"Stop it, asshole! You're here with us! You can't hurt Nana-san from here, we won't let you!" Gokudera-kun declared angrily. Tsuna couldn't turn his head to look at him, but he felt a rush of gratitude for his support.

"I am here. Ken and Chikusa are not. Did you not notice?" Mukuro laughed in his ear.

There was no explosion of dynamite, no sword cutting through the vines that held him prisoner. His friends must have seen that Ken and Chikusa were gone, and come to the same conclusion Tsuna had. They had no options.

"I'm sorry, Jyuudaime," Gokudera wailed. Tsuna couldn't think of a single thing to comfort him.

Tsuna stopped struggling against the illusions that bound him. He was afraid to even try to turn his head to look at Reborn, afraid to see the disgust in his eyes at his weak, pathetic student who couldn't even try to save his friend. Yamamoto's silence was a harsher condemnation of his pathetic inaction than a hundred of Gokudera's apologies, and Reborn's cut him even deeper.

Lambo was hanging limp in Levi's giant hand, all of his irrepressible energy drained by the fight. Tsuna was bound by Mukuro's illusions, and even when he had fought him before, he didn't think he had hated the other teenager this much. How could he be willing to let Lambo die? Whatever the penalty the Cervello made him pay for interfering, it wasn't worth Lambo's life. His tiny body just hung there, as the Varia assassin took sadistic pleasure in shocking him over and over, watching the five-year-old jerk and twitch in a gruesome parody of dance. This was horrific. He should have just handed over the rings as soon as this began, forfeited the match. Anything was better than watching this, helpless.

He hated himself for not interfering. But he was bound tightly in Mukuro's web, and with the threat against his Kaa-san, he didn't dare to fight. He knew Mukuro would do it, knew the psychotic young man would kill his Mama, Kyoko-chan, Haru-chan, and anyone else whose death would hurt Tsuna, if he did anything that would send him back to prison.

Mukuro loosened the vines around his head, letting him turn and see his friends. Yamamoto-kun's ever-present grin was gone, and his knuckles were white as they clenched tight on the baseball bat in his hands. Gokudera-kun had hands full of dynamite, eyes flicking everywhere. Tsuna knew he was calculating where to throw for the best effect, how he could possible save them from this mess. But there was no way out. They didn't dare move after Mukuro's threat. Lambo was going to die and it was all Mukuro's fault. All Tsuna's fault.

Desperately he tried reasoning with Mukuro. "Please, Mukuro-san! Let Gokudera-kun help! If I don't forfeit my ring, you won't go back to Vindicare, right? Lambo is just a child, we need to help him. Mukuro, I trusted you!"

"Then you are a fool, Tsunayoshi. The Varia have already won one match. After this, they will have won two. I am not willing to give them a greater lead for no purpose other than a weak, useless child. You think I could not stop your friends? My possession does not have an expiration date. The only reason Gokudera-kun is not my puppet right now is courtesy. I am more than willing to take his body. If you are so desperate to save the boy, why not have your tutor shoot you? Save him with your dying will?" Mukuro gave another mocking laugh. "Even with your dying will, you would not be able to overcome me with enough speed to win the match and save the child, and your tutor knows it. Relax and watch, Tsunayoshi."

Levi had stopped tormenting Lambo in order to watch the drama. The attention of the entire Varia was on them, rather than on the match in front of them. Lambo shifted and whimpered, but Levi paid him no attention. After hanging still for another moment, Lambo burst into action with a last desperate spurt of energy.

He writhed from Levi's lax grip, ripping his ring out of his hair and throwing it to the assassin as he tumbled to the floor, lying motionless once again. Tsuna couldn't even see his chest moving. He looked like a corpse, lying in a gap between the metal rods.

Mukuro's illusions vanished as soon as the Cervello announced Levi as the winner. Tsuna dashed to the tiny body which still lay there unmoving. This was all his fault. All he could do was stare as Gokudera-kun carried Lambo-kun to the side, laid him down gently on the ground, and started CPR.

The rest of the Varia were laughing, as though a child's torture was a game. Tsuna squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to watch any more, wasn't brave enough to endure the inevitable death. But he couldn't block out the laughter.

\------------------------------

Chrome had enjoyed baking with M.M. a lot more than he thought he would. His only memories of cooking were slaving away under the glare of Aunt Petunia, but rather than put him off, it gave making cake for his own consumption a thrill of the forbidden. Being allowed to make a mess, get flour all over the work surface, pile up the dirty pans instead of washing as he went, and even eat raw mix out of the bowl made him feel a giddy kind of joy.

He felt a strange sense of achievement as he looked at the row of fairy cakes. They were a little too dry, and the icing was a little too sweet, but he had made them, for himself. And for his friend.

Chrome wasn't exactly sure what made a friend. Before he came to Japan, he was used to classifying people as Mukuro-sama, enemies (the Dursley's, the Weasley twins and Voldemort) and everyone else. Then he met Kyoko-chan and Haru-chan. He thought that he could probably class them as friends, but they only knew the front he had put up. The shy, insecure, incredibly feminine boy. M.M. knew more about him. She knew that Mukuro-sama valued and trusted him, which meant he must have skills and powers that were useful. She knew that he was male, and had never imagined him to be anything else. Even if she was only tolerating him for the sake of time outside a cell and helping Mukuro-sama, she was good company.

The fairy cakes were quickly eaten, and the guard returned them to Chrome's cold, bare room, locking the door behind them. The sugar was helping Chrome stay awake, but he knew that tiredness would soon start creeping in. He wasn't allowed caffeine, as a chemical stimulant would disrupt whatever mental invasion they were planning. He wasn't looking forward to seeing how they were planning to keep him awake.

"What do you do for fun?" Chrome asked M.M., who was looking disgustedly at a smear of icing on her top. Chrome didn't want to tell her that it was in her hair as well. She had so appalled at his lack of hobbies, he figured she must have a few of her own.

"I like reading, and checking up on my investments. I play the clarinet," she replied shortly.

"You play music?" The idea intrigued Chrome. He had never had the chance to learn an instrument. Dudley had taken piano lessons for two weeks when he was eight, before he threw a tantrum and Aunt Petunia let him quit. Uncle Vernon had scoffed and slapped Dudley on the back, telling him that 'music was for nancy-boys anyway, not fine young men like Dudders!' Since then, music had held a forbidden allure for him, since anything the Dursley's disapproved of must be good.

"I'm not teaching you the clarinet. That's my instrument," M.M. declared immediately. After a moment, she reluctantly conceded "I know the basics of guitar. If you can get hold of one I can teach you."

As M.M. went to talk to the guard outside, Chrome indulged in a private thrill of anticipation. He realised that he was looking forward to learning with M.M. just as much as he was to showing Mukuro-sama. It was a strange feeling, but a good one.


End file.
